The Missing Boy
by Mali-caren
Summary: Harry Potter went missing on Halloween he hasn’t been seen for a whole year. Countless articles have proclaimed him dead or as good as. But is he really?
1. Pro

**The Missing Boy'**

By Mali Caren

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I wouldn't be posting on Fan fiction if I did…/sobs/ Dammit!

Summary: Harry Potter went missing on Halloween; he hasn't been seen for a whole year. Countless articles have proclaimed him dead or as good as. But is he really?

-oOo-

**Prologue**

**/Articles over a year/**

Boy-Who-Lived Missing!

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is missing. At the beginning of his fifth year, he disappeared on Halloween night. Albus Dumbledore himself leads the search for the fifteen-year-old boy. He has given no reasons, but we at the **Daily Prophet** have been able to get a first hand comment from the walking legend. "He is one of my students. I would do the same for any of them," he said as he departed from Hogwarts in a rush after refusing to say any more.

We are led to believe that Harry Potter is in fact in the hands of You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, but this has not been agreed with or denied. I believe I speak for everyone when I say, "Wherever you are Harry Potter, come back to us safely."

**Breaking new development on the Boy-Who-Went-Missing!**

**It is now three days since the Boy-Who-Lived disappeared. Fifteen-year-old** **Harry Potter, who had just started his fifth year, is indeed being held hostage by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! **

**Earlier today Albus Dumbledore received an anonymous owl containing information about the boy. You-Know-Who's ransom is not yet known, but is there even a ransom?**

Five weeks since Harry Potter went missing!

It has now been five weeks since Harry Potter, better known as the 'Boy-Who-Lived', went missing; hopes are hanging low on finding the boy alive. Wizards double his age have only lasted minutes in Harry's position. What can we expect from a fifteen-year-old boy?

**Loving words on Harry Potter's behalf!**

"**On hearing about your last article on Harry, I want to say he is an outstanding student, and has better chances than any other Wizard who has been faced with his challenge, the one of staying alive."**

"**I taught him during his third year and in that year, only thirteen years old, he managed to produce a full Patronus. Most adult wizards struggle to create the most meagre of Patronuses. But Harry learned how to generate a Corporeal Patronus in record time! He will make it through this, and all of his friends will be waiting for him!" said a distraught reader whose name we cannot specify. **

**We at the **Daily Prophet **also received a howler on the issue.**

"**How dare you! Harry Potter is one of the most able Wizards in Hogwarts School! No! THE WHOLE WIZARDING WORLD! Who cares about age? He has had more experience than most adult AURORS! And here at Hogwarts we are not giving up hope! Harry will return to us!"**

**We received countless others, but did not have enough room on this page to put them in.**

THREE MONTHS NO WORD!

It has now been a whole three months since the Boy-Who-Lived was kidnapped. Many have given up hope to find the boy alive or otherwise, but others are still writing to us saying the opposite. Albus Dumbledore still has the search effort going strong, and says he will not stop until Harry Potter is found.

**Five months gone**

**Five months have passed, and the chances of finding the Boy-Who-Lived are little to nothing. Will report any change.**

Memorial for Harry Potter

On the 31st of July, the Boy-Who-Lived's birthday, a memorial is going to be held at Godric's Hollow. Though no evidence has been found to state otherwise, we believe the boy is dead.

**SEARCH CALLED OFF!**

**The search for the Boy-Who-Lived has been called off. It has been 11 months since his disappearance, almost a year, and still no evidence that the boy is alive has been found. Albus Dumbledore reluctantly agreed with others and called off the massive search, though not before giving a statement.**

"**Harry Potter is out there, and one day we will find him." Tears shone in the ancient man's eyes. **

"**And one day we will lay him to rest," he said solemnly.**

One Year Anniversary Of Harry Potter's Disappearance tonight! 

Tonight is Halloween once again. It is now one full year since Harry Potter was proclaimed missing. Everyone's hearts will be bleeding tonight for the brave boy, and for what he must have gone through on this very night a year ago. The Ministry has proclaimed that a minute's silence should be held in the Boy-Who-Went-Missing's memory.

/End Articles/

Hermione sobbed as she placed the last article in her scrapbook, her hands shaking slightly. Ron sat behind her, staring at the open book without seeing it.

"That's it then," he finally said, as Hermione stuck the paper into the book.

Without bothering to turn to him, she asked, "What's it then?" in a low mournful voice.

Ron sat up and quickly wiped something from his eye. "He's gone."

_He's gone._ The two words echoed around in her head. Tears sprang to her eyes and cascaded down her pale cheeks. _How can two words cause so much grief?_

"I didn't mean that, 'Mione!" Ron said quickly as he grabbed her hand.

With the other she ran her fingers through her hair. "Yes, you did," she said softly, more tears coming to join the others.

Ron hung his head. "It's just been so long…how could he still be-" His voice hitched, and he quickly shook his head. "Never mind," he choked out, and Hermione squeezed his hand, knowing how he felt.

She sucked in a long rattling breath before she got to her feet. "Come on. The feast should ready by now," she said, and Ron nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed, as he got to his feet as well. Slowly the two friends walked to the Great Hall. When Hermione opened the huge double doors, her hands flew to her mouth, and more tears escaped her eyes.

"Oh!"

"What is it?" Ron asked from behind her. Hermione stepped to the side, and Ron saw that the huge Hogwarts banners that hung from the ceiling were all black.

"Come on, 'Mione," Ron said in a soft whisper, as he grabbed her shoulder gently and pushed her inside. Everyone in the hall turned as one to see them enter: Harry Potter's two best friends.

Sitting down in silence (apart from Hermione's sobs), the two began to eat. (Well, Ron did; Hermione couldn't look at her food.) When Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet, the little noise being made around the room hushed. The twinkle in his blue eyes was long gone.

"Good evening, students. I believe you have all noticed the change in decorations?" he said, as he gestured up at the ceiling.

"And I believe you all know why it has been made so?" At his words Hermione burst into another batch of tears.

"Well, Miss Granger does. Tonight is a sorrowful night for Hogwarts. One of us who should be sitting in our ranks is not, and many believe never will again." Hermione's howls were the only sound apart from Dumbledore's sombre voice and the growl of thunder in the sky outside.

"It may be true; it may be a lie. But one thing is still the same: he is not here. And so, before we finish our lovely meal, would you all please bow your heads and give a minute's silence for the memory of Harry Potter."

Around the room no one spoke. Tears streamed down most faces, but not a sound was uttered. Lightning flashed overhead as if in tribute, and a moment later thunder boomed … _or was it the doors outside opening_? Hermione had her hands pressed tightly over her mouth, trying to stifle her sobs, as liquid ran over her fingers and down her hands. Suddenly the doors to the Great Hall sprang open as lightning once again flashed.

Hermione's gaze shot around, like everyone else's in the hall. Silhouetted against the stark white was a man- or a tall boy? He wore a robe that was tattered and clung to his almost skeletal frame. The light from the lightning died slowly to reveal the boy in the doorway in full. His greasy black hair, matted from rain, clung to his scalp in dark tendrils. His skin was white and stretched over his bones, scarred and bleeding in places. His eyes were shadowed and sunken, and the tiny red mark on his brow was standing out, angry and sore.

"_HARRY!"_ Hermione screamed, and as if on cue, the boy began to stumble forward. After only a few steps, he fell limply to the stone floor.

Harry Potter had returned.

-oOo-

_(edited 13-May-2006 - td4)_


	2. i

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter One**

Around the room no one spoke. Tears streamed down most faces, but not a sound was uttered. Lightning flashed overhead as if in tribute, and a moment later thunder boomed … _or was it the doors outside opening?_ Hermione had her hands pressed tightly over her mouth, trying to stifle her sobs, as liquid ran over her fingers and down her hands. Suddenly the doors to the Great Hall sprang open as lightning once again flashed.

Hermione's gaze shot around, like everyone else's in the hall. Silhouetted against the stark white was a man- or a tall boy? He wore a robe that was tattered and clung to his almost skeletal frame. The light from the lightning died slowly to reveal the boy in the doorway in full. His greasy black hair, matted from rain, clung to his scalp in dark tendrils. His skin was white and stretched over his bones, scarred and bleeding in places. His eyes were shadowed and sunken, and the tiny red mark on his brow was standing out, angry and sore.

"_HARRY!"_ Hermione screamed, and as if on cue, the boy began to stumble forward. After only a few steps, he fell limply to the stone floor.

Harry Potter had returned.

-oOo-

Hermione was on her feet before he had hit the ground, as were Ron, Professor Lupin, Professor McGonagall, and Albus Dumbledore. Hermione reached him before everyone else. She fell to her knees beside his prone form.

"Oh my!" she whispered as she saw him up close. His robes were the same ones he had worn on the day he had disappeared, and were a few inches too short, but that wasn't what caused her breath to hitch. The robes were torn and tattered and stained with grime, dirt and … blood? He had fallen face-down so she couldn't see his features, but what little she could see … _What have they done to you? _The tiny bit of cheek she could see was bruised, battered and bleeding. And tiny (and some not) scars rippled across his pale skin. With shaking hands she reached out to touch his brow.

"NO! Hermione! Do not touch him!" Dumbledore yelled as he reached them next. For someone so old, he could run very fast. He knelt beside Harry as Hermione had, and began muttering spells under his breath.

"Everyone please proceed to your common rooms! Quickly now!" McGonagall called, and almost instantly everyone rose to their feet and began to depart from the room. But only after they had passed Harry.

"HARRY!" Lupin exclaimed as he and Ron reached him.

Albus looked up from the battered form before him and said, "Get Poppy, Remus. Now!" Lupin nodded frantically, tears already shining in his amber eyes before he sprinted from the hall as well.

"Is he okay? What's wrong with him?" Hermione demanded as she looked from Harry to Dumbledore. Albus shook his head as he continued to mutter spells.

"Don't distract him, Hermione," McGonagall instructed, and Hermione instantly fell silent.

Ron stepped forward and helped Hermione to her feet. "Come on, give him some room," he said quietly as he pulled Hermione away.

"Pomona," McGonagall suddenly said. "Go and tend to the Hufflepuffs. Make sure they do not leave their dorm. Tell them only that Harry has returned; say nothing of his health. We do not want any rumours started," Minerva ordered, and Professor Sprout nodded firmly.

"Tell them that no owls are to be sent," Minerva added as Pomona reached the door. She nodded once again and disappeared from the room, but only after shooting a furtive glance at Harry before she shut the door behind her. "Filius, Severus, please do the same for your Ravenclaws and Slytherins." Both Professors did as they were bid, and followed the Herbology teacher's example.

McGonagall looked around at the rest of the staff, all of whom were watching Dumbledore and Harry with mixtures of fear, worry, and apprehension. "Please return to your quarters. Classes will continue as usual tomorrow. As I have said, tell no one anything but he is here, and he is being cared for. We do not want the press to get their greasy little paws on this just yet," the head of Gryffindor said. Hermione didn't even notice the rest of the professors leave the room.

A moment later the doors burst back open to reveal Madam Pomfrey carrying an armful of bottles, and a second later Lupin, close on her heels, carrying even more.

"Are there any spells on him I should know about?" Poppy demanded, her face hard and set as she approached Harry.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not anymore," he said, as he wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow.

"Take the children away. We don't know how badly he's been hurt. It might not be pretty," Poppy said, as she took Hermione's place beside Harry.

"You heard her," McGonagall said as she turned to face Ron and Hermione.

Neither of them moved. "We're not leaving," Ron said as he looked McGonagall in the eye. Hermione hadn't torn hers from Harry yet.

Madam Pomfrey began to set the bottles of potions around her. Once they were all out of her arms she drew her wand. Harry rose from the floor and turned over before settling back in his place.

Hermione took a startled step backwards. _That can't be Harry! It can't be!_ Now facing the light she could see every gruesome detail of his face. His eyes were sunken in his head. His hair was plastered with blood to his scalp, and fresh crimson trickled from the corner of his mouth. Every inch of skin on his face was covered in small cuts, slashes and scars.

"Pass me the Fraygen," Poppy said as she held out her hand. Albus plucked a small, slender glass bottle from the ones surrounding her, and placed it in her waiting hand. She unstoppered it with a flick of her wand, and brought it towards Harry's mouth. She stopped before she touched his skin. "Are you sure, Albus?" she asked without taking her eyes from Harry's face.

The Headmaster nodded. "I am. Touch him without fear," he said, and Poppy quickly clasped Harry's jaw and eased it open. She quickly poured a fair amount of the purple liquid down his throat. Hermione watched in relief as Harry swallowed reflexively.

_Fraygen. _She remembered reading about it in Potions; it was a powerful restorative. She was glad Madam Pomfrey had had some. It was rare, but it would get Harry back to his original form more quickly. Healers used it for people who had been starved and needed to gain weight quickly, or for muscle development in an underused limb … it would work for Harry's case, too.

"Now," Poppy muttered as she ran her wand down Harry's chest. Where her wand touched the fabric of his robes, it parted aside to reveal his bare torso.

Hermione turned and buried her face in Ron's shoulder. But even with her eyes closed, and Ron's comforting (if hesitant) hands hugging her, the image was stuck in her mind. More cuts and slashes, more bruises and blood. But the burn! Hermione shivered, and Ron hugged her tighter. Harry had been branded.

"Get the children out of here!" Pomfrey hissed without lifting her gaze or stopping her work.

"No arguing. Out!" Minerva snapped as she ushered them out of the hall. Before she closed the Great Hall's doors behind them, she paused and said, "This is all hard enough already without you two having to witness it."

"Yes, Professor," Ron said, his arms still around a shaking Hermione.

"I'll come for you when you're able to see him … or if, if anything happens," she said, eyes downcast as she closed the doors.

As soon as the doors closed, Hermione raised her head. "Ron … was that, please say it wasn't," she said tearfully. She couldn't imagine Harry living with _that_ branded on his chest.

Ron didn't say anything. Hermione slowly took her arms away from him, and leaned back against the wall. She slid down it, and sat at the bottom. Ron joined her.

"We'll wait here," he said, more to himself than Hermione. Hermione looked over to him and saw he was looking up at the ceiling. He didn't even know she was here.

The silence around them was oppressive. They couldn't hear a sound from inside the Great Hall. "Wouldn't happen to have a pair of your brothers' Extendable Ears, would you?" she asked, eyes staring sightlessly at her feet.

Ron turned to her, his blue eyes dead. "Do you really want to hear what's happening in there?" he asked.

Hermione bit her lip. "Maybe not," she admitted.

_Please let Harry be okay. Please …_

_(revised May 2006 - Mali-caren)_

_(edited 20-May-2006 - td4)_


	3. ii

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Two**

Hermione found herself pacing as the doors to the Great Hall opened. She couldn't even remember getting to her feet.

"Is Harry okay?" she demanded as McGonagall opened the doors wider.

"He's as good as he can be," she said as she stepped aside. Hermione watched in morbid fascination as Harry was hovered through the door on a conjured stretcher followed closely by Madam Pomfrey, Lupin, and Dumbledore.

Ron scrambled to his feet and looked at his unconscious friend. In the candlelight he looked like a corpse … he was so pale, so thin!

"Come on. We are taking him to the hospital wing. If he needs it, we will take him to St Mungo's," McGonagall informed them.

Hermione felt her hands tremble. "Do you think he'll need to?" she whispered to both McGonagall and Ron. Ron didn't answer; McGonagall shook her head.

"I hope not," she said quietly, and without another word they all began to follow the others to the west wing.

Hermione felt like her heart was about to burst from her chest; she was so worried about Harry. It was even worse than when he had just disappeared. The burn on his chest was still etched in her mind: the Dark Mark. _How could they do that to him? _she thought furiously as she ran into Ron's back and stumbled to regain her balance. They were already there. The huge double doors where still open slightly, and Hermione could see the shadows of three people stooped over a bed. The hushed whispers that hung in the air slowly reached her ears.

"Will it heal?" Lupin asked, his voice quavering ever so slightly.

"It will heal as much as I can get it to," Madam Pomfrey snapped.

"What about … _Snuffles?_ He'll want to know!" Lupin suddenly said.

"Owl him, Remus. Tell him to come as quickly as he can," Dumbledore said softly. Hermione clasped her hands over her mouth. _He doesn't expect him to last the night!_ she thought, angry tears stinging at her eyes. _Harry's been gone a whole year! He can last another night! _she thought as the doors were pushed open from the inside, and Lupin rushed from the ward. Hermione turned and looked at Ron, who was looking over her head at Harry's bed. Hermione braced herself and entered the room.

As she drew closer to his bed, she felt yet more tears escape her eyes. True all of the small cuts had been healed, and already most of the scars had faded, but he was so still. Only the small ragged rise and fall of his chest showed he was alive.

A hand clasped her shoulder, and Hermione turned slightly to see Ron. With his spare hand he pulled the chair from the bed beside Harry's, and steered Hermione into it before getting another one for himself.

"Is there any point of me asking you two to return to Gryffindor tower?" McGonagall asked as she walked up to Harry's bed as well. Hermione looked up at her, the answer in her eyes. Minerva gave the smallest of smiles as she looked down at the two sixth-years before her. "I thought not," she said in a small voice before she looked at Harry.

Poppy looked at the Head of Gryffindor sternly as she pointed to the door. "I'm not going to allow you all to stay here! Minerva! You and Albus should return to your quarters," Madam Pomfrey said as she put her hands on her hips. McGonagall looked like she was about to explode before Albus stepped forward.

"You are to inform us if anything changes," he said, and Poppy nodded.

"Of course, Albus," she said, and before anyone could say another word, the Headmaster clasped Minerva's shoulder and took her from the room.

Hermione returned her gaze to Harry, hoping beyond hope that he would wake up soon.

-oOo-

Hours later, a large black dog bounded into the room. It skidded to a halt before one of the many beds, looking around with what one could only describe as _absolute _relief shining in its grey eyes.

A boy with bright red hair and freckles was sleeping upright in a chair beside the bed; his head slumped against his chest. And a girl with bushy brown hair sat in another seat, also sound asleep. She was sprawled across the bedside table, one hand held tightly around the hand of the boy who occupied the bed.

The shaggy dog padded forward cautiously, lifting its nose so it rubbed against the black haired boy's other hand. The boy didn't stir. The dog gave a small, almost silent whimper before it jumped up onto the bed, being careful not to touch the boy who lay in it, and curled up at his feet.

The dog didn't sleep, it didn't even close its eyes. It stayed up all night, looking over the three sleeping children silently.

_(edited 20-May-2006 - td4)_


	4. iii

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Three**

Hermione woke to a shrill scream. She jumped in her seat and had her wand drawn in seconds.

"What?" she yelled, still bleary-eyed from sleep. She looked around to see Madam Pomfrey with her wand pointing at a large black dog sitting on the foot of Harry's bed.

"Not that dog again!" Poppy shrieked as Hermione's eyes widened.

"Snuffles!" she gasped.

"Huh? Wha?" Ron mumbled as he looked around in confusion. He noticed the big dog, and he gaped.

"Si-Snuffles?" he asked incredulously as the dog began to growl at Pomfrey's wand.

"Get that dog out of the infirmary!" Poppy hissed as she pointed at the door, only for it to open seconds later. Remus Lupin walked in and smiled wanly at the dog and two children. His smile slipped as his eyes passed over Harry's still form.

"Once again, Snuffles has permission from the Headmaster to stay with Harry as long as he's here, Poppy," Lupin said as he dragged a chair quietly to Harry's bedside. He looked up at the Healer and asked, "Would you please leave us? I will call if Harry wakes or if anything … goes wrong," Remus said in a low voice. The dog perked its ears at his voice and looked questioningly at Madam Pomfrey, waiting for her to respond.

Poppy's face was growing red. "This is _my_ ward, Remus! Harry has been seriously (at the word, the dog lowered its head to the blanket almost guiltily) hurt! He needs to have a Healer at hand for any given moment!" Poppy said through gritted teeth.

Lupin hung his head. "Poppy, at the slightest sign of trouble I will call you," he promised, and Madam Pomfrey's anger deflated slightly.

"Do you know what you're asking me, Remus?" she asked.

Remus nodded. "I'm asking you to trust me," he said as he sat up straighter.

Poppy hesitated for a moment before she gave the smallest of nods. "Call me if he even twitches," she ordered before she turned and left the room.

As soon as the door closed Remus Lupin flicked his wand at it and muttered something under his breath. "You can transform now," he said as he finished the spell.

The dog jumped lightly from the bed, and in an instant was replaced with a tall man with shoulder-length black hair. He wasn't as thin as the last time Hermione had seen him, and was now wearing a pair of loose fitting robes instead of a tattered prisoner's outfit. He was clean-shaven and slightly gaunt, but she still immediately recognised the man as Sirius Black.

"What did they do to him?" Sirius hissed as he looked down at his godson.

"We won't know until he wakes up," Lupin answered quietly. Hermione had the impression that the two had forgotten that she and Ron were still there.

Slowly Sirius reached out and touched Harry's cheek. Hermione could see his grey eyes shining with unshed liquid. "He's really here," Sirius whispered.

"Where have you been hiding?" Ron asked, obviously trying to distract Sirius from whatever feelings were brewing.

His head snapped up at Ron's voice, and he gave a shaky smile. "If I told you that, I'd have to hex you," he said. Sirius turned to the next bed, and dragged yet another chair to Harry's bedside and sat down.

Hermione smiled slightly at the idea of Harry waking now, surrounded by all of the people who loved him. Her eyes widened as she realised what she had just thought. _I don't - he's just - oh dear._ She gulped as she looked back down at Harry's face. Her stomach did an odd summersault, and she closed her eyes tightly. _Oh dear, _her mind repeated.

Hermione opened her eyes slowly, and looked at her hand. It was still clasped tightly around Harry's. Instead of letting go quickly, which her whole being screamed to do, she squeezed his hand tighter. _We all love you, Harry, _she thought again. _Wake up soon._

The four all looked on in silence as Harry slept, all taking in every detail of him. He'd been gone for a year, a _whole_ year. They had all thought he was dead. Yet here he was, sleeping before them, breathing, alive … _for now,_ a small voice reminded her.

Hermione looked up at Sirius and wondered if he knew that Harry had been branded … by the look on Remus's face, he didn't.

-oOo-

A man walked down a stone tunnel with a lantern in his silver hand, the feeble light that the green flames gave off flickered around on the walls, piercing only a few meters into the gloom. The round man stumbled and cursed as he stubbed his toe on the uneven floor.

"Blasted tunnel," the man spat as he continued on his way. _Why does the boy have to be kept down in this murk? _he thought as he looked around at the damp stone illuminated with green light. _Just touch him and be done with it! Why do we have to check on him every damn day? He won't tell us anything!_ the man thought as he reached the heavy wooden door the boy was kept behind. He fumbled with his wand for a moment before he placed its tip to the lock. He heard the heavy 'clunk' as the mechanism fell into place.

He kicked the door open with his foot, expecting to hear the tell-tale scrambling sound as the boy backed against the wall in fear … nothing. _Has he finally died?_ he thought with a hint of sinister hope. He wouldn't have to go down the tunnel every day! He lifted his lantern higher and looked inside …

"What?" he whispered in confusion. He took a step deeper into the cell and looked around. The floor was still covered in grime and stained with blood; the walls were still damp with mould; shackles still hung from the cold stone; the air still smelled dank, and the stench of decaying flesh still hung thickly in the air … only one thing was different.

The room was unmistakably empty.

The man cursed explosively as he scrambled back through the door and began to dash as fast as his short legs would allow.

-oOo-

Sirius lifted his gaze and sighed.

"I'd better change back. Madam Pomfrey won't be happy," he said, and before anyone could complain, a dog sat in the seat Sirius Black had just occupied. Lupin got to his feet and went to the door (after he had taken off the spell he had put on it). He opened it, and Madam Pomfrey quickly stuck her face inside.

"Is he okay?" she asked quickly, and Lupin nodded.

"Fine Poppy, he didn't stir," he said as he held the door open for her. She quickly rushed inside, and took Harry's pulse before she shot a glare at Snuffles.

Snuffles looked up with wide lovable eyes, and Poppy's glare softened. Hermione couldn't help but smile despite the situation at hand. The Healer cast a few spells over Harry before she excused herself and went to her office at the back of the hospital. Lupin grinned and ruffled Sirius' ears

"The Black Charm is still winning the hearts of everyone he turns it on to, isn't it?" Remus asked, and Snuffles blinked innocently up at him as if saying, 'Of course!'

Remus looked at his watch and frowned. "I have to go. I'll be back after classes," he said before he left the room.

Hermione looked at her watch in surprise. It was six in the morning. She looked up at Ron, and smiled when she saw he was asleep again. Sirius looked over at her, and yawned before he returned to his place at Harry's feet. Hermione watched him fall asleep in an instant.

Looking back at Harry, Hermione felt her heart drop. His face was even paler than before, a grimace of pain was carved there, and beads of sweat could be seen on his face. She pushed his ebony hair from his forehead, and placed her palm on his brow. He was burning up! Hermione scrambled to her feet.

"Madam Pomfrey?"

"MADAM POMFREY!"

(edited 21-May-2006 - td4)


	5. iv

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Four**

The man with the silver hand ran through the twisting passageways, his breath ragged and sharp. He wasn't a fit man. Running was something he didn't like doing. His lamp bobbed in his hand, the light arched wildly from side to side, casting the stone corridor alight in waves.

He only stopped when he reached a huge black door, ten meters tall with twisted iron snakes and serpents crawling around its surface. The man shivered at the sight of it, even though he saw it every day.

Cautiously he raised his hand to knock on the great doors.

"ENTER!" the high-pitched voice echoed around him, and he shrank away from the sound. He quickly gathered his courage, and pushed the doors open. Inside, the floor was black and green marble set in checks. Being in the room, he felt like a minuscule pawn in a cosmic chess game. Slowly the man raised his head and looked at the solitary thing in the massive room: a twisted black throne, carved from petrified ebony. The hooded figure in the throne slowly raised his head and looked at the approaching man, his scarlet eyes glowing slightly in the dim light.

Once the man was a meter from the ebony throne, he fell to his knees and bowed his head. "M-M-Master," he stuttered.

"Wormtail. What news do you bring on our young guesssst?" he asked in a snake-like hiss.

Shaking visibly Wormtail raised his head, his fear evident. "H-he - he's gone, Master!"

For a moment Lord Voldemort was still, his crimson eyes glued to his shaking servant before him. With an almost graceful movement he drew his wand.

"You have failed me, Wormtail. You are lucky I have other usessss for you," he said softly, before he pointed his wand sharply at the quivering lump in front him.

"_CRUCIO!_"

-oOo-

Harry thrashed around in his bed. One of his flailing fists smashed the vase of flowers beside him, sending a shower of glass to the floor. Ron's eyes snapped open at the sound, and seeing Harry, he jumped to his feet. Snuffles fell to the floor as Harry's feet kicked violently beneath the blankets.

"CALM DOWN!" Ron yelled as he restrained Harry's arms. Snuffles began to bark as he looked on helplessly.

"Keep him still, boy!" Madam Pomfrey instructed sharply as she appeared from a back room. Hermione was close behind her.

"What do you think I'm trying to _bloody_ do?" Ron snapped.

Hermione quickly went over to Snuffles and calmed him down. "It's okay, Sirius! Madam Pomfrey can help him," she whispered in his ear, though her hands were shaking as she smoothed his bristling fur.

Poppy swished her wand over Harry, and muttered something under her breath.

Nothing happened.

Her eyes widened for a moment, and one of Harry's fists slipped free of Ron's grip. A second later it collided with the redhead's jaw. Ron tried vainly to regain his grip while Poppy muttered another spell.

Bright green ropes snaked from her wand and wrapped tightly around Harry's form. Ron jumped away quickly as he massaged his cheek.

The black-haired boy arched against his binding, and the bright green ropes strained around him.

"I don't understand," Poppy muttered as she looked at Harry. "That should have worked," she whispered. A second later the green tendrils began to fray before they ripped and disappeared entirely.

It was then that Hermione saw it.

A small trickle of blood seeping from his scar …

Her eyes widened in fear.

"WAKE HIM UP!" she yelled. Poppy looked at her with astonishment in her brown eyes. Hermione looked back at her frantically.

"NOW! DO IT!" she screamed. Madam Pomfrey didn't move. Hermione didn't hesitate.

"_ENERVATE_!" she bellowed, and Harry's emerald eyes snapped open. For a silent moment he looked around the room. His eyes moved from Madam Pomfrey, to Ron, to Hermione, and ended on Snuffles. Without a sound his eyes closed again.

His thrashing had ended the moment he woke.

Everyone stared at Harry. He was now perfectly still, his chest the only thing that moved.

Madam Pomfrey turned to Hermione, her face red, and a small vein pulsing on her brow. "You could have killed him!" she hissed.

Hermione scowled up at the Healer. "He would have died if I hadn't!" she snapped, her fist curling and uncurling around her wand.

"You didn't even know what was happening to him!" Poppy yelped.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment before she answered "He was having a _dream_," she said through gritted teeth.

Poppy faltered, her eyes slowly widening. "He - he - a dream?" she stuttered, looking at him sleep. Hermione nodded before she collapsed into her chair beside Harry's bed. "How did you know?" the Healer asked quietly, the redness of her face slowly draining away to reveal a pale complexion.

Hermione placed her wand on Harry's bedside before she looked up. "His scar," she said simply. Without waiting for the Healer's answer, she turned back to Harry and pushed his hair from his clammy face. His scar was an angry red colour, and blood still trickled from the lightning shaped mark. She noticed his eyes flickering beneath their lids, and bit her lip.

_Please don't let him be dreaming …_ she thought. She knew the sort of dreams Harry had before. What would they be like now? "Can he have a Dreamless Sleep potion?" she asked.

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. "No, it's too dangerous with him like this," she answered.

Hermione heard Ron sit back down, and saw Snuffles hop back to his place at the foot of Harry's bed. She slowly slipped her hand back into Harry's. If Remus had come back into the room, he wouldn't have noticed anything had changed.

After Madam Pomfrey had finished another batch of tests, she returned to her back room, leaving Ron, Snuffles, and Hermione once again alone with Harry.

Without relinquishing her grip on Harry's hand she turned to face Ron. "How's your cheek?" she asked with a small smile.

Ron rolled his eyes as he rubbed his jaw. "Even like this he still hits like a girl," he muttered as he gestured at Harry. Hermione laughed quietly even though she couldn't see anything funny about the statement.

Ron looked at his watch and smiled. "Class started half an hour ago!" he said joyfully as he got to his feet. He looked at Hermione expectantly.

"Er … 'Mione? Class … " he said, and Hermione arched a brow. "School, books, learning … you should be frantic by now," he said as he looked at her like she had just grown a second head.

Hermione looked back at Harry. "Class can wait," she said, and Ron stepped backwards, drawing his wand.

"Who the hell are you? And what did you do to Hermione?" he asked. Hermione turned to him and glared. He quickly lowered his wand.

"It was a joke," he said as he raised his empty hands in defence. After a moment he said, "I'm going to go and get some stuff from the dorm. I'll be right back."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, see you later," she said as Ron left the infirmary.

Once Ron was gone and the west wing's doors were closed, Snuffles looked over at her, and gave the dog-equivalent of a smile before he curled up into a ball. She could tell instantly he wasn't sleeping.

For what seemed like the thousandth time, Hermione looked back at Harry. He looked different somehow, as though waking him up when she did had changed the sort of sleep he had fallen back into. It didn't look as deep …

"Wake up, Harry. Tell us if you're okay," she whispered quietly as she squeezed his hand. And for a moment, Hermione swore she felt his grip tighten.

_(edited 21-May-2006 - td4)_


	6. v

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Five**

Hermione looked at her hand in amazement …

"Harry?" she whispered. Snuffles raised his head and slowly slunk forward. The Boy Who Lived was still fast asleep. The black dog's ears drooped as he hung his head.

"Oh," Hermione whispered. _I'm just getting my hopes up. He will wake up … just not now,_ she reminded herself.

-oOo- **A few hours ago **-oOo-

_Harry walked down a deserted stone corridor. It looked like the Hogwarts … _

But that c-c-can't be right, I'm in Voldemort's stronghold,_ he thought groggily. A ghostly blue light seemed to be following him through the dark halls, illuminating the walls in a soft glow. Suddenly a slither of light speared through the darkness. Harry froze where he stood, fear clawing at his mind. _Is it Wormtail?_ he immediately thought as he retreated clumsily, his hands scrambling numbly at the rough stone beside him._

_And then a gentle alto voice met his ears. For a moment the words made no sense to him … and then …_

"_You can't be serious Dumbledore! The Death Eaters have been after us for years! Just because they've been more … er … persistent lately doesn't mean they're after my son!" _

_Harry felt the fear die in his chest, to be replaced with stunned awe. _That can't be who I think it is_, he thought slowly as he stilled his shaking hands. He squinted at the blurry light before him, confusion clouding his thoughts._ My glasses! _he realised. He reached up and felt his face; they weren't there._ That explains things, _he thought dully._

_Courage he hadn't felt since the night he had been captured rushed though his veins. With a deep breath he made his way forward towards the light. It was a door ajar; Harry pushed it open without hesitation._

_He squinted against the sudden light, and raised his hands to dull it. Once his eyes had adjusted, he looked around the room. _Could it be the Room of Requirement?_ he wondered. It was then that he noticed them. Three people sat in the room on crimson arm chairs. One was an old man with a long silver beard and sharp blue eyes, and the other two were obviously a couple. They had pushed their chairs together, and had their arms around each other. The man had the same messy black hair Harry saw every time he looked in a mirror, and the woman had his bright green eyes …_

_Harry's mouth was hanging open. Even if he had wanted to utter a word, he knew his voice wouldn't have worked. He knew all of the people in the room. The old man was a younger version of the Dumbledore he knew, and the other two were his parents, Lily and James Potter. Harry recognised them instantly, even if he had only ever seen them in photographs …_

"_Dumbledore, if what you say is true … why would they want my son?" Lily asked slowly. At the sound of her voice Harry felt tears fall down his cheeks._

_The only time he had ever heard her voice was in his third year at Hogwarts, when the Dementors had forced him to re-live his worst memory, the moment she had died … her last moments … as she pleaded with Voldemort to spare his life, as she screamed in her last moment of life._

"_Lily, have you met Hogwarts' new Divination professor?" Albus asked. _

_Lily frowned and James chuckled. "What? That old bat? Why?" he asked with a laugh._

_Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Professor Sybill Trelawney. On my first meeting with her she fell into a trance and foretold a prophecy," he said, and James snorted loudly, only to receive a sharp slap on the back of the head from his wife._

"_Be nice," she snapped, and James hung his head in mock remorse. _

_The large grin he tried to hide didn't help him. "I'm sorry Dumbledore, but the Sybill Trelawney I met yesterday doesn't seem the … er … 'type'. I bumped into her, and she insisted she tell my fortune. Being the nice guy I am, I said yes and she led me off into her, what could you call that place? Lair?" James said, and Lily arched a brow._

"_Is there a point to your story, dear?" she asked, and James nodded with a smirk._

"_I'm getting there. She sat me at her table and brought out a crystal ball. Then she started going all mystic on me, waving her hands around the room, calling on the 'divine spirits' to guide her Inner Eye through the depths of the future. Then her crystal ball began to glow, and the point is, she predicted my 'brutal and tragic death' on Halloween," James laughed as he winked at Lily._

"_Maybe it will be as, 'eventful' as our last Halloween? Huh? Huh?" he asked as he rubbed Lily's swollen belly. She smiled bashfully as she swatted his hand away._

_James straightened back up and looked at Albus. "She's just an old bat stuck in her attic. Her prediction was total baloney, and so was she," he said as he crossed his arms. _

_Dumbledore shook his head. "Maybe she is, but the prophecy she made to me wasn't. And it may concern your son." This sobered James' laughter in a moment._

"_How so?" Lily asked cautiously, before her husband had the chance._

_Dumbledore twirled his wand, and suddenly his Pensieve appeared beside him, the same deep bowl of carved marble Harry had seen in his fourth year. Without a word he prodded the silvery water-like essence in the Pensieve's bowl with the tip of his wand._

"_Albus, man that still feels weird," James muttered as he shook his head._

"_What is this about … " The word died in his mouth as a silvery version of the woman he had met yesterday rose from the basin._

_Harry watched in amazement as the scene unfolded before him. As Professor Trelawney rose from the Pensieve, Harry slowly sunk to the crimson carpet below him._

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …"_

_As soon as the last word left her mouth, the figure in the basin slowly melted, leaving a stunned room in its wake._

_The room began to spin around Harry, and he realised he'd been holding his breath. Breathing out sharply, Harry turned Professor Trelawney's words over in his head. Harry buried his head in his hands._

"_Oh shit."_

"_Oh shit," Harry heard James repeat quietly. He couldn't help but smile._ Like father like son, _a soft voice whispered in his head._

"_Dumbledore, it might not be about my son! There are _other_ boys that are due at the end of July!" she said, her beautiful face pale as she clutched her belly. James quickly slung his arm around her shoulders, and she bit her lip to stop its trembling._

"_You're right as always, Lily. There is another boy the prophecy may be referring too. Only one," he said, and Lily's breath hitched. Harry watched in a mixture of sadness and numbness as a solitary tear rolled down his mother's cheek._

"_The Longbottoms are also expecting a son," Dumbledore said quietly. _

_Harry's jaw dropped. "_Neville!"_ he mouthed._

"_I cannot say which child Tom will mark as his equal, but whichever one he does, will become a great wizard," Albus said as he slowly looked at the fire. Lily gave a large dry sob, and buried her face in James' shoulder._

"_It's okay, Lily, it's okay," James said soothingly into her ear as he ran his hands through her auburn hair._

_Harry wanted to get to his feet and hug his mother, tell her he was okay, anything to stop her crying! But his legs wouldn't move._

"_Mum," he said in a whisper, his voice husky and rough from lack of use, apart from screaming that is …_

_As the word escaped his lips the world began to turn, and suddenly he was outside, under a flawless night sky._

_He looked around himself in utter confusion. He was sprawled before a two-story house. He'd never seen it before, but somehow it looked familiar. Harry noticed that the door in front of him was hanging from its hinges, and he stumbled to his feet._

_And then a yell broke through the silent night._

"_TAKE HARRY AND RUN!"_

_Harry fell back to the ground in his shock. He knew that voice, he knew those words!_

"_DAD!" he bellowed, the sound causing his already raw throat to twinge in pain._

"_STOP WHERE YOU ARE!" James yelled, and Harry jumped back to his feet and bolted through the ruined door. Without pausing to look at his one-time home, Harry ran through the dark room and down a hall. At the end of it was the first-floor landing. His father stood in the middle on the staircase, barring a hooded figure's way. Harry watched in horror as the figure lowered its hood to reveal a pale bald head, James' eyes widened for a moment before something in their hazel depths snapped to life, and he raised his wand._

"_You're not going to hurt my family," he hissed through gritted teeth. Harry felt pride fill his heart as he looked at his father. His hair was longer than the last time he had seen him, and he was wearing a red Auror's robe, like he had just come home from work. But the look in his eyes was so strong that, even from where Harry stood, he could feel the power and determination radiating from him._

_Voldemort threw back his head and laughed._

"_Is that what you think?" he asked in his cruel high-pitched voice._

_James scowled in fury. "No, that's what I _know_!" he bellowed before he thrust his wand at the abomination before him and yelled._

"_DIFFINDO!"_

_Harry saw Voldemort's head whip back, and a spurt of blood splatter the wall beside him. He slowly turned back to Harry's father._

"_You'll pay for that with your life," he began to hiss._

"_FLIPENDO!" James roared before he could finish, but with a flick of his hand Voldemort deflected the spell and it crashed into the wall, shattering the plaster, creating a hole in the wall._

"_Dear James, -"_

"_EXPELLIARMUS!" Voldemort sidestepped the spell with ease._

"_- it will take more than that -"_

"_BOMBARDA!" Once again Voldemort deflected the spell._

"_- to defeat me, if that's what you're trying to do."_

"_SENFEDRA!" James howled, and a bolt of blue light crackled through the air and hit Voldemort in the chest, sending him crashing into the wall behind him._

"_FOOL!" Voldemort spat as he got gracefully to his feet._

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

_The two words echoed between them as emerald light arched through the air from Voldemort's wand. As if in slow motion, James shot a final spell at Voldemort before the green light hit him in the chest, and he fell limply on the stairs. The violet light that had issued from James' wand moments before he died spiralled at Voldemort and hit him in the shoulder. Harry saw it continue through the other side as blood exploded behind his father's murderer._

_Voldemort didn't make a sound as the hole was bored through him; he just started up the stairs, one slow step after another._

_With sore red eyes Harry staggered forward until he was standing above his father's corpse._

_James Potter was sprawled over the stairs, his wand just out of reach of his slightly curled hand. His face was placid, and showed none of the fear Harry knew he had been feeling. His hazel eyes were wide and glassy, and obviously dead, and on his cheek lay a single tear._

_Harry fell to his knees beside his father, and reached out a tentative hand and laid it on the still chest. He felt his breath catch; he could already feel the warmth of life leaving James' body._

"_NOOOOOOO! KILL ME! JUST DON'T HURT HARRY! PLEASE!" his mother's voice screamed. Harry jumped to his feet and began to sprint up the stairs._

"_PLEASE! NO! NOT HARRY! PLEASE NOT HARRY!" she continued to beg, and Harry ran even faster._

"_Get out of the way, woman!" he heard Voldemort snap._

"_NO! LEAVE HIM ALONE! NO!" Harry skidded on the polished wooden floor as his breath wheezed in his throat._

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

"_NOOOOOO!" Harry yelled as his mother's scream shattered the balance of the universe. A moment later he heard the tell-tale 'thud' of a lifeless body hitting the floor. Tears were streaming down Harry's face as he ran. His father was dead on the stairs, his mother was dead just behind that door … high, cruel laughter erupted from Lord Voldemort's mouth as Harry shouldered the door in front of him open._

_He was in a nursery, a cot stood on its side in the corner of the room, pale blue walls surrounded him, soft toys for a baby boy lay on shelves, a mobile of Snitches, brooms, and Quaffles hovered over the cot. And in the centre of the room lay his mother, her auburn hair splayed around her fair face, her emerald eyes open and staring sightlessly at him, a silent scream etched on her face._

_Harry couldn't take it. He fell to his knees as his hands clasped his face. More tears than he knew he had cascaded down his face and over his fingers. Voldemort stood in front of his mother's still form, his wand still in his hand._

"_You bastard," Harry whispered in a quavering voice. _

"_You_ BASTARD!" _he roared. He couldn't shift his gaze from his mother's eyes, a single tear she didn't have the time to shed in life, trickled from her still open eye._

_Suddenly a scream broke the peace, a baby's long terrified cry. The single warbling note made more tears come to Harry's eyes. Harry looked away from his mother, and slowly saw the blankets in the cot move. Voldemort stalked forward, raising his wand once again. _The baby's about to die, _he thought, forgetting for a moment that he was the infant. He couldn't stand it, after everything he had witnessed, after everything that had happened to him over the past year! He'd go insane if he had to witness the baby's murder as well!_

_Suddenly white blinding light burst to life around him, and he knew he'd been saved from seeing another death …_

Harry's eyes snapped open, and he looked around in confusion at the small blurry crowd around him. What had happened to the house? His father? His mother? Himself?

Was that Madam Pomfrey? It was! _That must mean I'm in Hogwarts! But how did I get … RON! It's him! It's really him! He looks exactly the same as I remember … HERMIONE! She's here too, she's, she's, she's crying? Why is she crying? … SIRIUS!_ The shock of seeing his godfather there, right there! Looking down at him in his unmistakeable Grim-like Animagus form was too much. Harry promptly passed out.

_(edited 21-May-2006 - td4)_


	7. vi

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Six**

Another day had passed, and still Harry was asleep. Professor McGonagall had come in and forced Harry's best friends to go to class. Despite their disgruntled comments, they did as their Head of House asked. And since they were also being threatened with a week's worth of detentions with none other than Snape, what other choice did they have?

Hermione couldn't keep her thoughts from a certain boy in a hospital bed up in the west wing. She was sitting in Potions, and for once in her life she wasn't paying attention. _What if he wakes up now? Madam Pomfrey would be all over him, and Sirius wouldn't be able to transform. Harry would think he was alone!_ Hermione tipped her now ground batwings into her simmering cauldron. _What if he thinks we don't care about him because we're not there when he wakes up? _She began to slice her daffodil roots. _But what if he doesn't wake up? What if he's in a coma because I woke him up?!­­ _ Hermione closed her eyes and breathed out deeply. Without opening her eyes, she picked up her now sliced roots and dropped them into her cauldron. _No, no, he's not in a coma. Madam Pomfrey would have known if he was … but what if he has another dream? What if Madam Pomfrey doesn't wake him up in time? I mean … she hesitated! How could she hesitate? Everyone knows about Harry's dreams! How could she HESITATE? _Hermione began to stir her potion with un-needed vigour.­

"Miss Granger!" Hermione didn't hear Snape's yell, she was so lost in her thoughts. _How could a healer hesitate to act? She's said it herself; she needs to be there for any given moment! And she _**was**_ there, and she didn't. Do. Anything!_

"GRANGER!" Snape's angry yell was too late; the potion exploded in Hermione's face. Stunned, Hermione sat frozen for a moment before she whipped the thick gooey mess from her face, gagging at the horrible smell that met her nose.

"Granger, I do believe you mixed your headache potion _counter _clockwise after adding the sliced daffodil roots. Can you read, girl? Didn't you see the potion was turning blue when it should be pale orange?" Snape demanded as he sneered. Laughter suddenly swelled in the room. She looked around herself, and saw that she was the only one to be hit with her potion. _Oh no! What has it done to me?_ she thought as she felt her face frantically … nothing was different. There were no tentacles …

"Take yourself to the Hospital Wing! And ten points from Gryffindor!" Snape said as he flicked his wand, and Hermione's ruined potion disappeared from the dungeon, and thankfully from herself. Hermione bowed her head as she put all of her things back in her bag, but as she did she noticed her hands, and her eyes widened in fright. They were bright blue … Hermione whimpered and dashed from the room.

The first stop she made was the nearest girl's toilet. She closed her eyes and braced herself before she looked at her reflection in the old mirrors. A small, strangled noise escaped from her gaping mouth. She was blue. Her whole face was _blue_, bright vivid **_blue!_** The door to the bathroom opened, and Hermione spun around on the spot, only to see the last person she wanted to. Pansy Parkinson.

She smirked as she saw Hermione. "Nice look Granger, better than the busy-haired, buck-toothed thing you had going fourth year. Wait no, you've had to look like that your entire life, didn't you?" she said as she made her way to the mirror. Without looking at Hermione again, she stood in front of the mirror and began to trace her lips with the tip of her wand, causing them to darken into a rosy red colour.

"How's Potty? Has he carked it yet?" she asked. Hermione saw red.

-oOo-

Ginny walked down the corridor, heading for her next class. She was worried sick for her brother's best friend. (It had nothing to do with the crush she had had on Harry for the past four years, she kept reminding herself.) But like Hermione, her grades were slipping, as was her attention in class. But the sound that she heard issuing from the bathroom was hard _not_ to notice. The shrill yells of pain, and the angry bellows …

"Oh no," she sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. _I thought this would stop since Harry's back …_

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT! HARRY IS-" Ginny didn't need to hear any more. She knew who it was.

Ginny Weasley dropped her book bag in the hall and bolted into the bathroom. Inside she couldn't help but falter. Hermione had Pansy Parkinson pinned to the ground, her wand lay forgotten on the floor under a sink. She was pulling Parkinson's hair, and Ginny could see deep scratch marks on both girls' cheeks. The fact that Hermione was blue … _I don't want to know._

"GET HER OFF ME!" Pansy shrieked as she saw Ginny standing in the doorway.

Hermione's head snapped up. Even through the blue Ginny could see her face was flushed in anger.

"Hermione, come on, whatever Parkinson said doesn't mean anything. She's an idiot."

Pansy scowled at the redhead's words. "I can hear you," she snarled.

Ginny ignored her. "This wouldn't help Harry," Ginny said, and she saw Hermione's shoulders slump. Pansy took her chance and knocked Hermione off her, before she snatched up her wand and sprinted from the room yelling, "You're mad, Granger, MAD!"

As soon as the door closed, Hermione's shoulders began to shake with sobs.

"Harry's fine, Hermione! He's back! He's upstairs right now! Don't cry," Ginny said softly as she went up to where her friend sat on the cold stone floor, slinging her arm around her convulsing shoulders as she crouched beside her. Ginny couldn't count how many times she'd found Hermione like this over the past year.

Hermione shook her head. "He won't wake up," she whispered hoarsely.

"He will, Hermione," Ginny said, even though she felt her heart plummet at her words. "He's beaten a basilisk, he's escaped V-Voldemort five times now. He will wake up Hermione, he will," Ginny said firmly.

Hermione brushed her tears from her eyes quickly as she looked up at her and smiled shakily. "You're right," she said as Ginny helped her to her feet.

Ginny looked at Hermione's face. She bit her lip and said, "Now, do you want me to take you to the Hospital Wing? You're looking a little blue."

-oOo-

Sirius was still at the foot of Harry's bed, dozing lightly. He opened a bleary eye as something disturbed his restless nap. He frowned slightly, or he would have if his face wasn't that of a dog, and looked around. He was still in the Hospital Wing. Sunlight was still streaming through an open window onto his thick black fur, warming it nicely. Madam Pomfrey was still in her office, (he could just see her, she'd left the door ajar,) and Harry was- Sirius jumped to his feet (all four) and barked sharply. His tail was wagging madly, and he was whimpering piteously with excitement. He looked like he was going to wet himself.

Harry looked down towards his feet with a ghost of a smile on his face.

_(edited 17-Jun-2006 - td4)_


	8. vii

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Seven**

Hermione hid behind Ginny as she opened the hospital wing doors. She was still blue … though edging on red, Ginny had to admit. She hadn't seen someone blush so much since, well, ever.

"Come on, Hermione, what's with all the crimson?" Ginny asked as she put her hands on her hips. Hermione's originally blue face was now completely red.

Hermione averted her gaze. "I stuffed up a headache potion. I think I made something that reacts to emotions," she admitted.

Ginny held off her smirk. "The almighty Hermione stuffed up something!" Ginny clasped her hands over her mouth in mock horror.

"Ha, ha," Hermione muttered as she pushed past Ginny and entered the hospital. Just as she did, Snuffles leapt to his feet and barked excitedly, his tail a mere blur.

Madam Pomfrey burst from her back room a moment later, scowling at the aforementioned dog.

"Quiet!" Poppy snapped but Snuffles continued to bark before he dived forward and began to lick Harry's face … Hermione screamed as Harry's arms came up and tried feebly to keep Snuffles at bay.

She remembered no more.

-oOo-

Ginny, who had been standing right behind Hermione, was thrown to the ground under Hermione's weight.

"HERMIONE! GET OFF ME!" Ginny squeaked as she tried (and failed) to get Hermione to move. But no one noticed Hermione or Ginny, who was almost hidden beneath her. Madam Pomfrey was already beside Harry's bed. Even from where Ginny lay, she could see the tears in the Healer's eyes.

"You're awake!" Poppy yelped, before she tried (and failed) to get the ecstatic dog away from her patient.

-oOo-

Everything hurt: his toes, his legs, his stomach, his chest, his arms, his hands, his head. _Can hair hurt?_ He tried to move his head and stopped quickly. _Yes,_ he decided,_ it can._

A sharp bark caused his already throbbing head to pound even harder. Slowly he opened his eyes to see a blur of black at the foot of his bed. _Bed? Where the hell am I?_ Slowly he remembered seeing four people around him … _SIRIUS!_ A smile forced its way onto his sore face. It was Sirius, his godfather, he was here … _But where is here?_

"Quiet!" a familiar female voice snapped. Harry knew immediately whom that voice belonged to. And if she was here … the black blur dived forward, and Harry just stopped himself yelling in pain as the dog's weight moved the bed he lay on. With aching arms, Harry tried to keep his godfather at bay as he licked his face.

Someone screamed, and the sound made Harry's already blurry vision spin. _Can't they all shut up!?_ he thought groggily, his broken body already beginning to tire him.

"HERMIONE! GET OFF ME!" he heard _another_ female voice squeak. _Hermione's here? And was that Ginny?_

"You're awake!" Madam Pomfrey's blur yelped, and Harry felt his godfather's weight shift slightly. _This has all got to be a dream … how could I-_ the thought stopped half-formed in his head as flashes of memory raced through his mind.

It was a dark night, -or just a dark tunnel? -Pain- The smell of decay and rotting flesh made him gag, yet he was out of his -cell? Stumbling blindly down the darkening tunnel -pain- … clawing at a black wooden door- bright blue light- the smouldering ruins of a door, more tunnels? Darkness, despair, hope?- fresh air, the smell of wet earth -rain- … Pain.

Harry's breath became ragged in his chest; the past year filled his head. He wanted to cry, scream, and run at the same time, but his body wouldn't allow him to do anything. A cold hand pressed itself against his burning brow.

"My word!" he heard Poppy gasp, taking her hand away quickly.

Harry's eyes darted between the black blur of Sirius and the flesh-coloured blur of Madam Pomfrey. What if _they_ were trying to trick him again? What if this was all another plot to get the Prophecy from him? What if he tried to run now? Would he even be able to? At the thought of his body, the aches and pains he already felt intensified. Harry wanted to curl up into a ball, but once again his body wouldn't obey. He wanted to yell for help, but he knew he wouldn't be able to utter a sound if he tried. He wanted the bright light around him that was burning his eyes to dull! He wanted to curl up and die. _Then they'll never get the Prophecy! Not from me!_

Suddenly the loudest scream yet split through the air, shattering Harry's inner mayhem.

"**_SIRIUS BLACK!" _**

At the same moment, strong arms wrapped around him. His crazed thoughts died the instant he realised what was happening.

Sirius had transformed in front of Madam Pomfrey, and he was hugging him … Harry felt a dry sob wrack his frame as he raised shaky hands to encircle his godfather. He buried his head in Sirius' chest, and felt tears escape his eyes. He felt his godfather rub his back gently as he whispered soothing words that made no sense to Harry in his ear.

But at that moment he knew. It wasn't a trick. He really was at Hogwarts. He really had escaped.

He really was safe.

_(edited 17-Jun-2006 - td4)_


	9. viii

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Eight**

Sirius knew he had made a mistake, a big, BIG mistake. But Harry had looked so lost; his eyes had been filled to the bursting point with fear. He couldn't just sit there and watch that. He was the boy's godfather! Harry had been in the hands of Death Eaters for the past year! At the thought of what his godson must have gone through, he felt his blood boil and his fists shake … or maybe that was because he was crying?

But with Harry in his arms, he didn't care. Sure, he knew there were going to be consequences for his actions (… _wow, that little 'responsible' voice really sound like Moony)_ but he didn't care. Harry was safe, awake, and crying against his chest, great wracking sobs that made his thin frame tremble.

"It's okay Harry, shhhhhhhh, it's okay. I won't let you get hurt again. I promise. You're safe now," he whispered into the boy's messy black hair. He rubbed gentle circles on Harry's back, horrified at how thin Harry felt beneath his hands, but trying not to notice. From the corner of his eye he saw Madam Pomfrey looking at him like he was Voldemort himself, _no, someone more dangerous,_ and backing away slowly, drawing her wand. With a shaking hand she pointed it at his chest.

"G-g-g-get away from h-h-him," she stuttered, eyes wide and fearful. Sirius ignored her. Harry was all he cared about; Harry needed him.

"N-N-Now!" she shrieked.

"No! Sirius is innocent!" insisted a slightly muffled voice.

"Poppy, you do not know the whole story. Sirius Black is innocent. Please lower your wand," soothed the calm voice of Albus Dumbledore. Sirius blocked the voices out. Dumbledore was there, he'd sort everything out; he always did. Sirius hugged Harry as tightly as he could without hurting the boy, which wasn't very much, and felt his sobs lessen ever so slightly.

"It's okay now, Harry, it's okay," he whispered again. This time Harry moved his head and looked up at him. His eyes were glassy and still filled with tears, and Sirius knew that his must be the same. Harry didn't make a sound, but the look in his eyes said a thousand words. _Is this real? Are you who I think you are? Why am I hurting? Why are you crying? I'm sorry for everything. _Sirius felt a smile tug at his lips.

"You're awake," he said quietly, the emotion in his voice surprising even himself.

-oOo-

"G-g-g-get away from h-h-him," Madam Pomfrey stuttered, and Ginny doubled her efforts to get to her feet. _Dammit Hermione! Why are you so heavy?!_

"N-N-Now!" the Healer shrieked.

"No! Sirius is innocent!" Ginny cried, her voice slightly muffled from under Hermione. She knew the whole story; she'd stayed at the Order's stronghold all last year! She knew he had been framed!

"Poppy, you do not know the whole story. Sirius Black is innocent. Please lower your wand," soothed the calm voice of Albus Dumbledore. Ginny sighed in relief. _Right on time,_ she thought. She was sure that the next thing Madam Pomfrey was planning to do was hex the 'Mass Murdering Convict'.

"Albus! He's a m-m-murderer!" Poppy stuttered, her wand falling limply to her side, her eyes wide in astonishment.

"He was framed, Poppy. I will explain when the time is right. But right now you have two young Gryffindors on your hospital floor, and two distraught men on one of your beds," he said calmly.

"Professor!" Ginny squeaked. Dumbledore turned to her with amused eyes.

"Ah, Miss Weasley. Isn't it a wonderful day? And young Harry has finally woken up. Isn't it marvellous?" he asked, his signature twinkle on full power. Ginny felt her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. _Wow. He really is nuts,_ she thought in amazement. Poppy waved her wand, and as Hermione began to hover over to the bed beside Harry's, Ginny took her chance to jump to her feet. She saw Sirius hugging Harry tightly and Harry crying in his arms. She felt heat rise in her cheeks; she knew she wasn't supposed to be witnessing this.

"Miss Weasley? Would you mind alerting your brother and Professor Lupin of today's events so far?" Dumbledore asked. Ginny nodded numbly

"Yes sir - I mean, no sir - er - I mean - I'll just go," she said quickly before she dashed from the room.

-oOo-

_Harry's awake! Harry's awake!_ She skidded around a corner._ Harry's awake! Harry's awake! Harry's awake!_ She dashed down a hidden passage, sweeping aside the tapestry that hid it. _Harry's awake! Harry's awake! Harry's awake! Harry's awake! _HARRY'S AWAKE! Ginny wanted to scream it aloud as she sprinted as fast as she could down the halls. It was lunch time and she knew both Lupin and Ron would be stuffing their faces in the Great Hall, or at least Ron would. In her rush she almost forgot about the trick stair, but just in time she remembered and jumped it … only to collide with a tall, blond Slytherin who strongly resembled his father.

-oOo-

Harry nodded slightly, his smile widening as his eyes drooped.

"You're awake," Sirius repeated, his eyes misting over.

"Sirius, would you allow Poppy to run a few tests?" Albus asked softly, causing Sirius to jump. For a moment he had forgotten he wasn't alone. He wiped quickly at his eyes, and nodded.

"Yes," he said hoarsely, summoning a chair beside Harry and sitting down. Poppy stumbled over and began to mutter under her breath. As she flicked and waved her wand over Harry, she frowned slightly and repeated a movement, only for her frown to deepen. Sirius looked over at Harry, who was breathing deeply, as if in pain.

"What is it?" he asked Poppy, though his eyes never left Harry. Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

"He needs another dose of Fraygen," she said stiffly. Sirius tore his eyes away from his drowsy godson and glared at the Healer.

"What is it?" he demanded. He knew when someone was hiding something. Having been a Marauder he knew _very_ well.

-oOo-

Draco yelled as Ginny propelled them both back down the stairs. They landed in a painful lump of arms and legs, both groaning.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, WEASEL!" the blond boy yelled. Ginny winced; his head was right next to her ear.

"HARRY'S AWAKE!" she blurted. It was the only thing she could say, it was the only thing she could think, it was the only thing her mind could grasp. Draco looked like a ghost had just walked (er…hovered?) through him.

"W-W-WHAT?" he spluttered, his silver grey eyes wide.

"Harry is awake!" she said in one breath, her face flushed from running and excitement.

"I heard _that,_ Weasel" he snapped, his usual glare quickly masking his last expression. Ginny quickly untangled herself and jumped back to her feet.

"HARRY'S AWAKE!" she half gasped, half whispered, her brown eyes wide. Draco got to his feet stiffly, dusting non-existent dust from his robes.

"Give him my best," he sneered, before he continued up the stairs. Ginny forgot about him the moment she continued to run. Ron and Professor Lupin needed to know.

-oOo-

Lupin was playing with his food. He hadn't been hungry for three days, and it wasn't because of the upcoming full moon. No, he was worried. He snickered silently. _ Well that's the understatement of the year,_ he thought, slightly surprised how much the small sarcastic voice sounded like Padfoot. He pushed his broccoli around his plate once more. _I wish I could just cancel my classes and stay with him until he wakes up! But I couldn't do that!_ With a humourless laugh he thought,_ It's the sort of thing Sirius would do. _

Suddenly the hall's doors burst open, and Lupin's head snapped up, remembering the last time it had happened. Only this time it was a redhead that dashed inside. Remus frowned. _What in the world is Ginny up to?_ he wondered as she bolted to her brother's side. She said something, and Ron jumped to his feet, dashing from the hall …_ Family emergency?_ he speculated. Ginny, instead of sprinting to her next brother as Remus would have guessed, began to run to the front of the hall. _Towards me …_

"Professor! Professor!" she panted as she approached the teacher's table.

"Professor Lupin! Harry's awake!" she said quickly. Remus jumped to his feet, only recognising one of Ginny's words._ Harry._

The werewolf was out of the hall before any of the Hogwarts students could understand what had happened.

-oOo-

"What is it?" Sirius growled, ready to draw his wand if the Healer didn't answer. Poppy looked at him with naked terror on her face. _Oh yeah, that's right. I'm still a mad murderer to her, aren't I? I can use _that_ to my advantage. _

With the most savage face he could muster (the face he usually reserved for a privileged few, CoughcoughcoughSnivelluscoughcoughcough) he stepped forward.

"**_What. Is. It!" _**he roared.

Madam Pomfrey whimpered as she stumbled away from him, only for the door behind her to open. Sirius let his mask fall as he saw who it was.

"Harry!" Ron said as he bolted to his best friend's bedside. Harry, whose eyes had been closed, opened them with a snap. He looked at Ron with blank eyes for a moment before they filled with recognition. The smile that filled his godson's face was contagious. _So much for the 'big bad murderer' thing,_ he thought with a sigh.

What seemed like a second later, the hospital wing doors burst open again to reveal a very pale werewolf.

For a moment, Moony's eyes travelled around the room, slowing for a moment on Sirius and stopping completely on Harry.

Oh, how Padfoot wished he had a camera.

-oOo-

Hermione opened her eyes slowly. It took a moment for her to remember where she was, but when she did she sat bolt upright in her bed.

"HARRY!" she yelped, leaping from her bed and to her feet. Everyone in the room jumped at her voice, and turned as one to face her. Ron took one look at her and fell from his chair. He began laughing so hard that his face turned beet red.

"What are you laughing-" but the words died on her lips as she remembered why she had gone to the hospital wing in the first place.

"You're orange!" Sirius burst out, trying (and failing) not to laugh. But as he spoke, she turned red. The rapid change broke through Padfoot's resolve. He joined Ron on the floor very quickly. But with Sirius down, Hermione's view of Harry's bed was clear. He was awake and looking at her with a sleepy grin. He looked like he was snickering but didn't have the energy to do it properly. Hermione felt tears sting at her eyes, and with the tears came another colour change. Now she was bright hot pink. Ron, who had begun to sober, took one more look at her and fell back to the floor in another fit of laughter.

"Oh! What have you done to yourself?" Madam Pomfrey asked, her lips twitching ever so slightly.

"A headache potion went wrong, ma'am. Nothing serious," she said quietly, her eyes still on Harry. He still looked like he was trying to laugh, but just the fact that his eyes were open … his emerald eyes … _he's awake, he's really awake, _was all that she could think.

Ron looked around at them all and suddenly blanched.

"I have to tell Mum! She'll kill me if I don't owl her!" he said before he ran from the room.

Hermione felt her knees shake and quickly sat in Sirius' seat. Harry continued to laugh silently at her now pale yellow face. She turned to him with a smile.

"I've had enough from you," she said, and Harry arched a brow before he winced and stopped. Hermione snickered at him as Sirius summoned another chair for himself and Remus.

"Sit down, old friend," he said with a small bow. Lupin glared.

"Who are you calling old?" he demanded, his lips twitching ever so slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. The grey in your hair confused me," Sirius said with a glint in his eyes. Moony slapped the back of Padfoot's head before he sat down and crossed his arms.

"I'm not old," he said rather childishly. Sirius smirked as he sat in his own chair, rubbing the back of his head.

"Could have fooled me," he said under his breath. Remus arched a brow.

"You're just easy to fool," he muttered.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the two friends bickering. She looked back at Harry, who was looking at his parents' best friends as well. With Harry back and awake, she felt like she could laugh and joke again without feeling guilty. She knew Padfoot and Moony felt the same. Harry was awake again. Everything could go back to the way it was.

-oOo-

At the edge of the school grounds a tall, cloaked figure hid in the shadows.

"Why have you called?" a sly female voice asked from behind the cloaked person. The figure spun around to face the woman before it bowed respectfully.

"I have news," said the obviously male voice from under the black cloak. The woman looked down at the boy before her.

"Indeed? What is it then?" she asked, her voice overly sweet-_sweet like rotting garbage-_ the boy thought in disgust.

"Harry Potter is awake," he said, hiding his repulsion completely. He was pleased to see the woman start.

"Awake?" she asked, her voice higher then usual. _She's afraid,_ he realised. "Our master will not be pleased," she said, her voice quavering, and the boy knew why. _She's the one who will have to tell the Dark Lord._

"Do I have any new orders?" the boy asked after a moment. The woman shook her head beneath her hood.

"No, still the same. Collect information. Nothing more," she said, a slight sneer in her voice.

The boy bristled._ She doesn't think I'm able enough to do anything else. But it was me who handed them Potter on a silver platter! _

He quickly controlled himself before he asked, "Have we found out how he escaped yet?" He didn't need to say Potter's name; he was on the mind of every Death Eater already. Once again the woman shook her head

"Not yet. But we will," she said. After a moment she continued. "Go back to the school and persist in your first objective. Call in the normal way if you find anything of importance." She didn't say goodbye, she didn't say good luck; she just turned her back on him and slipped back into the Forbidden Forest, being consumed by the darkness a moment later. The boy remained where he was for a minute before he began to return to the castle.

He had a job to do.

_(edited 24-Sep-2006 - td4)_


	10. ix

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Nine**

Harry wanted to go back to sleep, his eyelids felt like lead. But Sirius was there, and so were Professor Lupin and Hermione. He hadn't seen them for a year; they were a sight for sore eyes … _very sore eyes _…

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. He frowned and tried again. _Why can't I talk?_ he wondered. His frown deepened and he tried to sit up, only for his eyes to scrunch up in pain._ Maybe I'll stay put …_ he decided as he lowered himself back to the bed.

"How are you, Harry?" Hermione asked quietly. Remus and Sirius were too busy discussing their 'age' to notice.

Harry, once again, tried to speak.

"Don't strain yourself, Harry, your voice will return soon enough. You've damaged your throat," Madam Pomfrey's voice interrupted, and Harry turned his gaze to her.

She was looking at him with sad eyes … _She knows something … something she doesn't want to have to tell anyone._ She noticed his gaze and quickly turned away. Harry felt his stomach tighten._ Especially me._

"Harry?" Hermione's timid voice brought his mind back to what she was saying. Harry heard the sheets crimple and looked down. Hermione's hand was threaded through his own. _Why is Hermione holding my hand? _Harry frowned._ That is my hand, right?_ He tried to move his fingers. He saw them twitch … the cold grip of unease began to tighten around his mind._ Why can't I feel my hand?_

Before he could stop it, another memory slipped through his mind …

_He was lying on the grimy floor, his breath shallow and rasping, his fists half clenching at his sides … _what?_ Harry forced his eyes open and looked at his hands. They were quivering though he couldn't feel the movement. He frowned and tried to close his fist again. He couldn't. His fingers only twitched and started to curl before they stopped. _

"What's wrong with my hands?" he tried to say. But it came out as a hoarse groan. Madam Pomfrey tutted,

"What did I say?" she asked coming forward.

Harry frowned. Something was wrong with his hands and he wanted to know what it was!

"What is wrong with my hands?" he tried again, but once again the sound that came out of his mouth was far from words.

"Try writing it down, Harry," Hermione said as she leant down and scrounged through her bag with one hand. The other was still in Harry's. A moment later she emerged with a piece of parchment and a quill. She passed them to him with a small smile.

Harry tried to sit up again but Poppy quickly swished her wand and did it for him. Harry wasn't sure if he was angry or happy she had helped him. Mentally shrugging it off he went to pick up the quill.

"What's he doing?" Sirius asked, making Madam Pomfrey jump and edge away quickly.

Harry looked up at him, wishing he could say, 'I'm right here ya know? I can hear you,' but not bothering to try. He knew the results he would get.

He lifted his arm slowly; it was already trembling with strain. Despite that he still reached for the quill, only for his numb fingers to bump into it. He scowled at his own hand, not bothering to stop even though the muscles in his face were complaining (loudly and painfully) to cease. He couldn't feel the quill, even though his fingers were touching it. He forced his hand to obey him and curl around the feather.

"Harry?" Hermione asked slowly. Harry ignored her. He was determined (to a fault) to pick up the quill and write his question. His fingers fumbled and groped at the thin quill clumsily. But they just couldn't bend enough, he couldn't do it. He stopped for a moment, looking at the feather dumbly. He'd never _not_ been able to do something when he tried hard enough … _never._ Anger flared in his chest and he slammed his loosely formed fist over the quill.

"What's wrong with his hands?" Sirius asked slowly. Harry looked up at him, trying to get his godfather to understand he was trying to ask the same question.

"That's what Harry's trying to say, isn't it, Harry?" Hermione said, catching on. Harry turned to her and nodded. He stopped quickly; the movement caused his vision to spin and his head to throb.

"Lie back down, Harry, you need to rest," Poppy said gently. Harry scowled and remained upright. Even though his head was still pounding he knew she was stalling. She knew what was wrong.

Everyone in the room was looking intently at the Healer.

Suddenly the hospital wing doors opened to reveal a greasy-haired Potions master, who looked around the room with loathing. He didn't want to be there, that much was obvious. His black eyes finally reached Sirius and his lips pursed. He quickly turned his eyes on Poppy.

"Albus has instructed me to give you another flask of Fraygen," he said stiffly as he reached into the voluminous sleeves of his black robes and took out a small bottle of purple liquid. Abruptly he flinched and dropped the bottle to the floor where it smashed, as he gripped his forearm tightly.

Harry screamed.

-oOo-

Sirius watched in horror as Harry began to claw at his chest, his face twisted in agony. His fingers tore at his pyjama top, ripping the buttons away and revealing his bandaged torso. Sirius saw Harry's fingers bend into grotesque shapes as whatever pain he was in intensified. As he was still gouging at the bandages, Sirius could see blood beginning to seep through the whiteness his son was tearing away. And suddenly the bandages were gone, and Harry's bare chest was free to view. Sirius felt his heart stop. The Dark Mark was branded into his son's flesh. It was bleeding freely, it was bruised and weeping. The skull's snake tongue was moving, and a black vapour was also rising off it in sinister shimmering waves. Sirius was on his feet. He didn't know when he had stood but he was standing now, and running at Snape.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM? YOU BASTARD! WHAT DID YOU DO?" Sirius roared. There was no mistaking why so many people had thought Sirius was capable of murder. The look burning in his grey eyes could kill, and if he had had his way, it would have.

"PADFOOT! STOP!" Remus shouted as he restrained his friend. Sirius tried to get away from Moony's grip, but the werewolf was unsurprisingly strong.

"Sirius! Stop it! Now!" Remus hissed, and Padfoot fell still. All of his energy was gone. The only sound in the room was Harry's yells of pain, his short, sharp gasps of breath … and Hermione's crying.

"Let me go, Remus," Sirius said through gritted teeth. His godson was in pain. He was yelling; he needed him … Slowly Remus let go. _But it was Snivellus who had caused his godson that pain._ Sirius dived at Snape, knocking him to the ground.

"PADFOOT!" Remus howled. And Sirius felt his friend try to pry him off Snape. But Sirius was busy … busy causing as much pain as he could to his old school enemy.

-oOo-

_(edited 1-Oct-2006 - td4)_


	11. x

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Ten**

The pain was searing through his flesh, his green eyes were rolling in his head, he could hear his own blood rushing past his ears, and it was only intensifying.

Harry could hear screaming, the sound was so loud and so close by … but the agony that was piercing through his chest wouldn't allow his attention to waver. And suddenly blissful blankness crashed over his consciousness, washing it away.

-oOo-

The sudden silence made everyone in the hospital wing pause. Harry had stopped thrashing, Sirius had stopped beating his fist into Snivellus' crooked nose, and for a moment Hermione stopped crying. Remus took his chance to pull his best friend off the Potions master who was bleeding from the nose.

Remus kept a firm grip on Sirius' arm as he turned to look at Harry, his eyes were twitching beneath their lids and his chest was rising and falling smoothly. _At least he's not in pain anymore,_ Moony thought grimly as his eyes were drawn to the Dark Mark. The vapour it had been giving off had disappeared, but it was still a gruesome site. The burn was still weeping and bleeding, and black, purple, and yellow bruises were everywhere around the would-be scar.

"Why didn't you tell me?" The soft whisper took Remus by surprise. He turned slightly and saw Sirius staring at Harry's chest in a mix of horror, disgust, sadness, and - could that be betrayal?

"I -" Moony's voice trailed off. He hadn't told him because he knew how much Sirius hated the Mark and all it stood for. He was the first one to see James and Lily's house on Halloween. He'd been invited for dinner that very night and when he arrived … his world had changed forever. And even before that night, he'd hated the Mark with a vengeance. He'd been an Auror with James after all.

"What happened?" It was Hermione's timid voice that brought Remus out of his thoughts. Sirius pried Moony's slack fingers from his arm, and went and sat back in his seat. He reached out slowly, and held his godson's hand, rubbing his thumb over its scarred back.

"He just proved my fears were grounded," Madam Pomfrey said, her voice quavering.

"I'll just be leaving then," Snape growled as he dragged himself from the floor, whipping the blood from his face with the back of his black sleeve. Sirius turned to him and growled, the sound like gravel and from deep in his throat. The look that passed briefly over Severus' pale face promised a painful revenge.

"Good day!" he spat before he stormed out of the room.

"Good riddance," Sirius hissed at the closed door.

"You shouldn't have done that, Sirius," Remus said quietly, torn between guilt for not telling him, and slight sympathy. Whatever Snape was going to do to him, Sirius wasn't going to like it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sirius asked again, ignoring Remus' last words.

"What fears, Miss?" Hermione asked as she got up.

Sirius frowned at Moony, the look in his eyes saying he'd talk about it later, before he turned his grey blue orbs to the Healer.

"Proved what?" he asked. Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

"I have to see to Harry before I'll say anything," she said quietly, the dread in her voice at the prospect naked to Remus' heightened hearing.

-oOo-

Hermione noticed the look on Madam Pomfrey's face as she swept her wand over the branded skin on Harry's chest. She knew that look. It was the same look that Neville had when the Gryffindors had Potions next, the same look Ron had when someone else took the last piece of bacon he was reaching for, the same look Harry had when anyone asked him about the Dursleys or when he saw them at the station to pick him up. It was the look of someone steeling themselves to do something they didn't want to do, or in this case, say.

"Madam Pomfrey, you're going to have to tell us," she said, slowly dragging her eyes from Harry's.

"You're not going to like this," she said to them all as she bit her lip anxiously.

"WHAT?" Sirius demanded. The alarm in his eyes made Hermione's stomach knot.

"He's not …" Hermione couldn't get her lips to form the word 'dying'. _No! I can't even **THINK **that,_ she thought frantically.

Poppy sighed.

"He's connected like all of the others," she said and Hermione gasped, catching on in an instant._ At least he's not dying,_ she reasoned numbly, _but could he live with that?_ Hermione reached out once again and clasped her hand around Harry's; somehow the contact helped to soothe her frenzied thoughts. She turned to Sirius and saw that he didn't understand. Remus on the other hand did. His face was drawn, his amber eyes dull. Hermione could almost see the thoughts racing behind them.

"He's connected like all of the other whats?" Padfoot exclaimed, the alarm in his eyes turning to fear. Poppy looked away.

"He's connected like the other Death Eaters," she said. Remus sat down abruptly, Sirius swayed on his feet.

"It's a real Dark Mark?" he said hoarsely. Hermione sealed up her tears for a later date._ No use crying over what I can't change … **change **…_ thoughts chased themselves around her head, the sound of pages flicked through her mind. In a frenzy of information Hermione formed a plan … _I'll look into that later … for now …_

"What's wrong with his hands?" she asked.

Madam Pomfrey jumped,

"He's, he's … he has some nerve damage. From what I can determine with the diagnostic spells, it was caused by too many Cruciatus spells in too close succession. He may never be able to hold a wand again … let alone catch a Snitch."

-oOo-

Harry closed his eyes tighter, physically restraining himself from clenching his hand.

He'd woken up as Hermione had asked her question. His head was still throbbing, and his brow still moist, but Madam Pomfrey's answer had made his blood run cold.

'_He may never be able to hold a wand again … let alone catch a Snitch,'_ the Healer's words echoed cruelly around his head, again, and again … Harry felt a tear cascade down his cheek, it was filled with all the hope he had. _Let alone catch a Snitch …_ Harry couldn't stop it, his hand balled into a fist, or at least it closed as far as it could. _No, no, no, NO!_ Harry tried to stop the memories, but he couldn't. In an instant they crashed over him.

The feeling of the wind rushing through his hair as he sped forward … the feel of his Firebolt's sleek handle under his grasp … the thrill of seeing a golden glint at the other end of the pitch and racing after it … the feel of holding a struggling Snitch in his hand and thrusting it up into the air to be rewarded with a roaring crowd ... the way all his worries melted as soon as he was in the air …

Suddenly the first half of what Madam Pomfrey had said sunk in, and Harry's eyes snapped open.

"No!" he croaked. _He may never be able to hold a wand again …_

"NO!" Harry repeated, his voice hoarse and filled with anguish. In that second Harry felt his world shatter around him.

_No wand … no magic. _

_(edited 1-Oct-2006 - td4)_


	12. xi

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Eleven**

Suddenly the first half of what Madam Pomfrey had said sunk in, and Harry's eyes snapped open.

"No!" he croaked. _He may never be able to hold a wand again …_

"NO!" Harry repeated, his voice hoarse and filled with anguish. In that second Harry felt his world shatter around him.

_No wand … no magic. _

-oOo-

Up in Gryffindor tower, Ron Weasley fiddled with one of his chess pieces idly, staring blankly into the wavering flames of the fire in front of him.

"Ron?" He jumped at the sound of his name, and turned around in a flash, only to see Ginny, twisting the hem of her blouse nervously. His shoulders slumped, the tension leaving his frame in an instant.

"What do you want, Gin?" he asked tiredly, turning back to the fire, the knight still in his hand, forgotten.

Ginny sat in the empty seat beside him, her movements still hesitant. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Ron rubbed at his temples. "Why would you ask that?" he asked as he turned to her again.

Her face was stubborn as she demanded, "Answer the question."

Ron closed his eyes for a second before he answered, "Yes, I'm fine."

Ginny sat forward in her overstuffed chair, her brown eyes glued to his. "Then why are you avoiding Harry and Hermione?" she asked.

Ron crossed his arms across his chest as he sunk deeper into his crimson chair.

"Why is everything about Harry? Sure, I'm glad he's okay. Shit, I'm amazed he's okay! But -"

"But nothing! I said Hermione as well! Why are you avoiding them?" Ginny interrupted sharply.

Ron looked everywhere but at his sister. "I just am, okay?"

Ginny growled deep in her throat. "NO! THAT'S NOT OKAY!" she yelled, instantly getting all the remaining attention of the Gryffindors who were lazing around in the common room.

Ron looked around nervously as he put his hands up in an attempt to shut her up. "Okay! Okay!" he hissed.

Ginny narrowed her eyes but did as she was asked

"Answer my question, and I'll leave you alone," she said in the same hushed tones.

Ron sighed,_ Can't she take a hint?_ "Fine, Gin, fine … it's been a year. A _whole_ year … he's going to have changed … I know _I_ have … and 'Mione …" He let his sentence drift off unfinished.

Ginny's stance softened, her eyes thawed. "See, was that so hard?" she asked, a smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

He looked up at her,_ What, lying? No, of course not,_ he thought as he got up and retreated to his dorm, his smirk hidden from her.

Ginny frowned at his back, her eyes slowly returning to the seat he had just occupied, the little white marble knight lay forgotten.

-oOo-

"Harry," Hermione said hesitantly, as she reached out with the hand not around his, and squeezed his shoulder. He shrugged it off, his eyes dead, blank, empty. Even as she watched, the brilliant emerald colour she was so used to … dimmed.

"I'm fine," he whispered, having found his voice, however husky it was.

"You weren't meant to hear that, Harry," Madam Pomfrey said quietly.

Harry turned his dull eyes to her, the fury flashing in them making Hermione shiver.

"Why? Am I too '_fragile'_ to hear it!? Were you even going to tell me? Or were you going to wait for me to find out myself?" he demanded.

Hermione squeezed his hand, and Harry frowned slightly, his anger deflating in a moment, before he looked at their entwined hands. "Did you just …" his voice trailed off.

Hermione bit her lip, making to take her hand away.

"I'm sorry, I-" she began, but Harry's eyes snapped up to hers, and she felt the smallest of pressure on her digits as he squeezed her hand back.

"Don't," he said, as he brought his other hand up (which shook with effort) and draped it over hers, quelling her attempt to take it away.

"Don't," he repeated, his eyes slowly drifting shut. As she watched, he fought to stay awake. It was one battle he couldn't win.

Hermione looked up at Poppy, hope in her eyes.

"He felt it, Miss. He felt my grip tighten. Doesn't that mean you can fix the damaged nerves?" she asked, remembering vaguely something she had read about it.

Madam Pomfrey looked like she was about to cry. "No, it's something magic can't heal, just like magic can't fix his eyes. The spells needed to do such things, just don't exist …" she said.

Hermione frowned, certain she'd read something that said the contrary. It was funny … over the past year she'd been a wreck, crying at the smallest thing, getting angry in an instant. But with Harry back … _Sure I was still a little … 'fragile' as Harry put it, when he first arrived … but now … now I can think clearer. I'm a bit more like my old bookish self,_ she thought with a grin. Harry frowned in his sleep and her smile faltered._ I'll feel much better, though, when Harry's back on his feet,_ she realised.

"You should return to your dorm, dear. Harry will be fine until morning," Madam Pomfrey said, but Hermione shook her head.

"Didn't you hear him before? He didn't want me to let go of his hand. I'm not leaving … not until he does," she said stubbornly, and Sirius laughed.

"You sound like Lily after she and James finally got together. You remember, Remus? When he dived off his broom to score that goal? He made the shot …"

"… and won the game, and thus the Quidditch cup …" Remus put in with a fond smile.

"… but ended up in the Hospital wing for a week. Happens that jumping off your broom when you're still twenty meters in the air is a _bad_ idea," Sirius finished. His smile dropped as his eyes passed over Harry and Hermione.

"Point of the story …" he said sombrely.

"… is that Lily stayed by his side until Madam Lenyed, the healer back then, let him out of the ward. Didn't leave his side for more than a minute … nothing we said could make her," Lupin finished.

-oOo-

Harry was dreaming again, memories mixed with nightmares filtered sluggishly through his head.

_-He was being thrown back into his grotty cell, newly-healed cuts ripping back open as he slid along the filth-covered floor.-_ The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … -_A potion was being forced down his throat, icy cold tendrils began to inch across his bare chest, slowly paralysing him.-_ Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … -_The Dark Lord_ _was_ _laughing as he stepped forward, his shadow falling over Harry's unresponsive body.-_ And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … -_Voldemort looked down at him, his crimson eyes alight with excitement. 'This will be interesting,' he whispered as he held out his skeletal hand to a Death Eater next to him._- And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … -_The Death Eater handed him a long metal rod with a white hot end. Even from where Harry lay frozen, he could feel the heat on his face.-_ The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies … -_'I will enjoy this, Harry,' Voldemort whispered, as he raised the metal rod above Harry's chest. Emerald eyes filled with panic as the Dark Lord thrust the glowing metal into his torso, burning through the ratty shirt he'd been wearing for a year, and eating into the soft flesh the metal found below. Harry screamed in agony as the brand sank farther into his skin, etching the symbol into what seemed like his very soul …-_

Harry's eyes snapped open, his breath rasping from his chest, the mark burning slightly beneath newly applied bandages. It was dark in the ward and the crescent moon hung low in the sky out the window, bathing the room and his bed in ghostly light. He allowed his eyes to shut again as he breathed deeply, pushing the memory of the dream from his head. _I hate this! My dreams were bad enough before!_ he thought angrily. A soft whimpering suddenly caught his attention. He opened his eyes again and looked to his left. Hermione lay slumped against his bed, her head pillowed against her crossed arm; the other was outstretched, still clinging tightly to his own.

"No, no! Don't, please no! … Harry!" she whispered and Harry felt his stomach tighten. _She's dreaming about me? _With clenched teeth he pulled himself into a sitting position, silently wishing he could feel Hermione's hand in his own.

"Wake up," he said quietly, shaking her shoulder slightly with his free (trembling) hand.

She stirred slightly but didn't wake. "No! Please! Harry! Leave him alone …" she muttered, face scrunching up in a worried frown.

He shook her shoulder again. "Wake up 'Mione, I'm fine," he said and her frown lessened. She still wasn't waking, but talking to her seemed to help … "I'm right here, beside you. Wake up and see. Come on," he whispered, and slowly her frown turned into a soft smile.

"Harry," she whispered, but this time the name was said in relief, not in worry.

He felt a smile form on his bruised face. His facial muscles twitched with pain but he didn't stop. He made to lie back down but realized that he was wide awake. The dream was still fresh in his mind, much to his displeasure, and his chest was still stinging. His eyes were drawn to the wide window on the wall opposite to his bed. _What month is it?_ he wondered as he realized he didn't know. He saw an owl swoop past the glass lazily.

Looking from Hermione, who was still sound asleep with a small smile on her face, to the window, Harry sat up more. Tremors of pain shook his arms as he slung his legs to the side of the bed. Harry was disgusted to find that he was already panting, and that a sheen of sweat covered his brow. He frowned and tried to get up, but his legs collapsed underneath him and he fell back to the bed. His eyes filled with determination and stubbornness as he tried again, and this time his legs helped him … just. He stumbled forward clumsily, hissing slightly as his bare feet touched the icy stone floor, wishing he didn't feel so light-headed and weak. Just as his legs gave out again, he reached the opposite wall and collapsed against it. Breathing like he'd just sprinted a mile, he pulled himself up using the wall, and lurched over to the window which had a deep frame, deep enough for him to sit in comfortably. Harry felt like he was going to throw up, his arms and legs were shaking madly, he was sweating still … but he'd made it across the room by himself … _Don't think I'd be able to go _back,_ though,_ he thought, grimacing at the idea of trying it again. So instead he pulled his legs up against his chest and lent against the stone behind him and looked out the window.

Even though his sight was blurred (he couldn't find his glasses), he could make out the large shape of the lake, shimmering in the moonlight. And he could see Hagrid's hut, its windows alight … but thinking of Hagrid led to thoughts of his first meeting with the gentle giant, and that led to his pink umbrella and the wand remains hidden inside it. _Not being able to do magic won't be so bad,_ he thought numbly, his throat tightening._ I lived without it for eleven years … I can do that again. _His eyes began to burn but he closed them furiously, refusing to let the tears escape._ I'm going to beat this, _he thought as he lent his feverish cheek against the cool glass beside him. He scowled out into the darkness._ I'm going to beat **him**_. As the thought crossed his mind, his eyes darkened. The lively spark that Hermione loved so much was gone, replaced with an all-consuming emotion that wouldn't be forgotten.

**Revenge.**

_(edited 24-Oct-2006 - td4)_


	13. xii

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Twelve**

Harry felt his blood boil as anger coursed through his veins. His fists began to clench at his sides but … Harry wanted to yell in fury. Like before, his hands only half closed. The glass in the window beside him cracked and he jumped, almost falling from the window ledge he sat on. _Did I …_ a small grin grew on his face as he ran his eyes over the long thin break that splintered the glass pane in two. _Accidental magic … I can still do **accidental** magic!_ Half crazy thoughts raced around his head, pages turned franticly, an idea was born. _If I can do accidental magic, then, what's to stop me from doing wandless magic?_ He was amazed how much hope those two words could bring him.

"Wandless magic," he whispered, eyes alight at the prospect.

-oOo-

Hermione felt something muss her hair gently … _Wha?_ She opened her eyes groggily and frowned in confusion. She was lying on a bed … Harry's bed … but where was Harry? Hermione sat up in a flash, dread filling her eyes and heart. But the dread died in two long awe-filled seconds. One … time slowed as she realized things were floating around the room, a thermometer brushed past her ear, the pillows from all of the beds were hovering near the ceiling and moving slowly in a graceful circle, a stool was joining them, a bedpan was rising from the floor …Two … Hermione's eyes drifted downwards and she saw Harry, sitting on the windowsill opposite her. He looked like he was about to pass out from fatigue, heavy black bags were under his dull eyes- _Dull?_ No, they weren't dull anymore! That small flicker of life Hermione realized she'd fallen in love with was burning brightly in the emerald depths again … and a satisfied smirk filled his face as he looked at all of the flying objects.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped and Harry jumped, his eyes snapping to her in surprise. All of the hospital equipment fell to the floor noisily, and Hermione made the connection instantaneously. She beamed and jumped to her feet as Harry grinned.

"Harry! Harry! You did wandless magic!" she squealed as she sprinted to his side and wrapped her arms around his frail shoulders. "Do you know how hard that is?" she asked as she squeezed him tighter.

Harry winced as he croaked a muffled, "Yes!" and Hermione released her grip guiltily.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Harry, I just … you did wandless magic!"

He smirked again. "Yeah …" he said as he looked back at a fallen pillow like it was a chocolate cake he'd just been promised.

Hermione hugged him again as she laughed, almost hysterically.

"Oh, Harry, I was so worried about you!" she said and suddenly her laughter had turned to tears.

"Hermione, don't please …" Harry said as she felt hesitant arms encircle her. But it was all too much. He'd been gone a year! Twelve months! _365 days_! And suddenly he was back, looking like he'd been dragged through hell and back at least three times, and to top it all off … she'd realized she loved him! _Love!_ Not just _like_, not just a crush, not even like a brother! It was full blown love! Her sobs intensified and she buried her face deeper into his shoulder.

"Come on, Hermione, I'm fine, really!" he said and she felt the vibrations of his low voice rumble through his chest. But she couldn't stem the flow … if anything it was just increasing.

"I thought you were dead!" she moaned, her words hardly audible as she said them into his flannelette shirt. Suddenly the arms around her were cradling her to his chest. She felt his hand began to run through her sleep-matted hair, slowly untangling the knots. Her shoulders slumped as she lent farther against him. It was the safest she'd ever felt. In his arms she felt like nothing could hurt her, or him …

"Well, I'm not. Hardly dead at all, see? Still breathing, still talking, and for some reason I'm still blind without my glasses. Go figure. I thought the whole 'near death' experience was supposed to change you," he joked, and Hermione smiled into his chest as it shook with his small laugh.

"That's not funny," she said, her words still muffled. She'd stopped crying, but she felt as tired as Harry looked.

"WHAT HAPPENED IN HERE? WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF YOUR BED, MR POTTER?" Madam Pomfrey screeched, and Hermione and Harry sprang apart. Hermione felt her cheeks heat up in a flush, and turning slightly she saw Harry's were doing the same.

"Er …" Hermione began, but Poppy Pomfrey silenced her with a shake of her head.

"I don't _want_ to know! Back in bed with you!" she ordered at Harry and his blush deepened.

"Er, Miss? I'm … er … I'm only still here because I don't think my legs will hold me on the journey back," he mumbled as he looked longingly at the soft bed Hermione had found herself asleep on.

She laughed as Poppy flicked her wand at him and hovered him onto the bed, Harry complaining all the while. The Harry she knew (and loved) was finally beginning to return.

-oOo-

"How could he escape? How?!" the boy demanded of the empty room, his head bowed over a piece of blank parchment.

"He's going to get an even bigger head now! He's escaped the Dark Lord's stronghold, as well as everything else he bloody well did!" the boy spat in disgust, the quill in his hand snapping inside his fist. The spine speared into his hand and he cursed, plucking the now bloody feather from his flesh.

"Who let him escape? Someone must have!" he hissed as he dug one-handedly through his bag, looking for his handkerchief. When he found it he wrapped it around his still bleeding hand, tying it off roughly and causing another twinge of pain.

He gave an almost primal howl though his clenched teeth.

"They're going to ask me to capture Potter again," he said, dreading the thought of doing it a second time …

-_I crept through the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, my black cloak hiding my features, my heart drumming madly in my chest, but always keeping the black-haired idiot in sight as I did. Potter had got up at the end of the Halloween feast after not eating anything during it, using the old 'I'm not hungry' excuse, followed by 'I'm going for a walk' before he left. I wanted to laugh aloud but settled for a smirk. _All he needs now is a big sign around his neck saying 'come and get me! I'm going to be alone and defenceless outside right now!'_ I thought as I ducked behind a tree when Potter turned, peering suspiciously into the forest a meter to my left. For a second my heart stopped. Had he heard me? What- but the question died in my head as he turned back around and continued his 'walk'._ This is going to be too easy,_ I realized as I saw how deep in thought he was. I looked behind me; we were out of sight of Hogwarts now, and the oaf of a teacher's hut. I stepped out of the forest and began walking briskly towards Potter. He heard my footsteps and turned around, his face a mask of confusion. _

"_What are you-" _

"_Stupefy!" I spat, but Potter jumped to the side, rolling at the last moment and jumping back to his feet. _

"_What are you doing? Are you mad?!" he demanded, drawing his wand. I wanted to laugh again, and this time I did. _

"_No, I'm the sane one here," I said before I threw the Body-Bind Curse at him. This time he was too confused to block the spell or jump out of its way. I grinned as I walked up to his frozen form; his eyes were staring at me in baffled amazement … _

"_See ya next time, Potter," I spat, his eyes scowled at me and I laughed. _

"_Obliviate!" I said, and suddenly his eyes went out of focus._ Far too easy,_ my mind repeated …_-

The boy shook the memory from his head. _No, this time it's going to be harder, _he thought, rubbing at the Dark Mark burned into the soft flesh of the inside of his arm._ Much harder …_

-oOo-

After Madam Pomfrey had run at least twenty tests on him to see if he'd 'done any damage' last night, she sighed and disappeared into a room at the back of the ward.

"Why didn't you tell her about the wandless magic?" Hermione asked as soon as the Healer's door was closed. Harry shrugged.

"I … I want it to be a secret. And it's far from under my control at the moment," he admitted as he looked at the stool at the foot of his bed. It shook for a moment, as if trying to rise, but didn't.

"Oh … um … is that how you got me onto your bed last night?" Hermione asked. Harry smirked again

"Yeah, I hovered you. And I must say, 'Mione, you've put on weight," he teased, and Hermione hit him with a pillow.

"Hey! That hurts more than you know!" he said as he rubbed at his shoulder gingerly. Hermione grimaced.

"I'm sorry! I didn't-" she broke off with a shriek as a pillow hit her from behind. Harry laughed, but the sound soon turned into a hoarse cough. Hermione rubbed his back gently until he was back under control. But he was breathing wheezily when Madam Pomfrey stuck her head back out of her door.

"Whatever you're doing, stop it. It's obviously not good for you," she huffed before she disappeared back into her room. Harry smiled weakly.

"I thought laughter was the best medicine," he said, and Hermione chuckled.

"Apparently not for the Boy Who Lived," she said, and Harry was surprised to find himself laughing with her. Usually if someone had said something like that to him he'd have wanted to hex them … but … not Hermione. She was different …

"It's funny. Someone brought up in the wizarding world wouldn't have gotten that," he said, and Hermione nodded, leaning against the backboard of his bed. A bit earlier, he had said her chair looked uncomfortable, and he had moved over so she could have room to sit beside him. He looked up at her and couldn't help but notice just how much 'different' she was.

She'd grown a lot over one year. _That's all she said I'd been away for … it seemed so much longer. _Her hair was now reaching her lower back and had lost most of its frizz. Now it fell in gentle waves, and was sleek and shiny … and any puppy fat she may have had, had disappeared completely. _She said she lost weight because she was so worried about me._ She was now slim and curvy in all the right places. _No, she's Hermione, your best friend. Can't think about her like** that.**_Instead he looked at her face. Her smile was shy now. He remembered it full and bright, not that he didn't like her new smile … no, it made his stomach feel like he'd eaten something funny …and her eyes, her eyes were the thing that had changed the most. Where once he had seen a non-quenchable thirst for knowledge and books to read, he now saw an almost broken barrier, keeping inside everything that had happened over what he guessed was the past year.

"Are you alright?" he asked suddenly.

She frowned at his question, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You're asking _me_ that?" she asked, obviously finding it funny.

"Yes, I am Miss Granger, and you haven't answered it yet," he said and she smirked.

"I'm fine. You're back." Her face paled slightly as the second part escaped her lips, and Harry felt his stomach tie itself in knots.

At the same moment, they both looked away.

_(edited 18-Nov-2006 - td4)_


	14. xiii

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Thirteen**

_Why do I feel like this around her? _Harry thought as he snuck a short look at Hermione. He felt his stomach flip as she looked away as quickly as he did._ It was never like this **before**_, he mused. Before … that was how he found himself thinking of his ordeal. Before he'd been captured, before he'd changed at the hand of Voldemort. Harry shook that line of thought from his head. He knew it would only lead to an anger he'd have trouble controlling. _And 'control' has a whole new meaning now_, he realised with a small smile. _Wandless magic… _

-oOo-

_Wandless magic … how could he have so much control over it already?_ Hermione resisted looking at the subject of her thoughts. _It takes so much more to make magic without a wand! A strong wizard who tries wandless magic would find that all of his spells were weaker than with his wand, but Harry …_ Hermione couldn't resist her urge and turned to look at him out of the corner of her eye. She felt herself blush as she met his eyes before she tore her gaze away quickly. _I could **feel** the magic in the air before! He has so much that some was escaping into the air around him!_ She felt giddy at the thought of how much power his stunt _should_ have taken out of him. _But it didn't! He said he'd been practicing all **night!**_ Hermione turned around again. She could see the Boy Who Lived's exhaustion, but only the physical type. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes ringed heavily in black, his skin waxy … _He should be drained magically as well, though!_ she thought, wracking her memory for a reason he wasn't. She couldn't find one.

-oOo-

Ron walked slowly down to the Great Hall, his hair still mussed from sleep, and grit still in his eyes.

"Ron!" Ron closed his bloodshot eyes and clenched his teeth at the voice.

"What now, Ginny?" he groaned, stopping his sluggish attempt at forward motion.

Ginny jogged up to him. She blew a strand of her red hair from her face before she turned to her brother.

"Are you going to the hospital wing today?" she asked at once.

Ron closed his eyes, counting to ten slowly.

"No, Gin, I don't plan to. Stop acting like Mum," he said irritably. "One's enough already," he added under his breath. Ginny scowled.

"Hermione hasn't left his side yet, but you haven't even been in there _once,_" she said, her voice low enough so only he could hear it. Ron frowned.

"I have seen him," he said defensively. His little sister arched a brow mockingly.

"Yeah, when he was unconscious," she snapped, hands on hips.

Ron shook his head and started to walk away.

"Mind your own business, Gin, and I was there when he woke up, remember? I'm going to breakfast."

-oOo-

Ginny scowled at Ron's retreating back. _I'm going to get him to see Harry, **today,** _she thought stubbornly. A grin began to grow on her face, plans forming in her head._ Yes, _she mused,_ that could work_. She began to walk as she worked out the 'finer' details in her idea. _I could call in a favour from Fred and George …_ her grin widened. _Yes,_ she decided,_ this is going to be fun_.

She reached the Great Hall to be greeted with the smell of toast and the sound of hundreds of Hogwarts students chatting amongst themselves, along with the clinking and clanking of cutlery. As she passed the Ravenclaw table, she heard Harry's name come up in almost every conversation.

"Hey, Ginny!" Ginny looked up to see Katie Bell waving her over. She patted the empty place beside her.

"Hello," Ginny said as she sat down. She'd been playing Seeker over the past year, but only after Katie had threatened her to take the position. It hadn't felt right taking Harry's place …

"Is it true?" Katie asked at once, her face bright with excitement.

"Is what?" Ginny asked as she reached across the table and got herself some bacon.

"Is Harry really awake?" she asked. Ginny looked at her slowly.

"He is. Why?" she asked slowly. Katie began to strum her fingers against the table.

"How is he?" she asked, not meeting the redhead's eyes. Ginny's suspicion grew.

"He's been gone for a year, held captive by Voldemort." She ignored the Quidditch Captain's cringe. "What do you think?"

Katie looked up. "So he's not that bad?" she said.

Ginny stared at her, jaw agape.

"Do you think he'll be okay to play in the next match?"

The piece of bacon fell from Ginny's limp fingers.

"**_No. _**He can barely _WALK! _LET ALONE CATCH A SNITCH!" Ginny yelled. Katie shrunk away from the roaring red haired girl. Ginny shook her head, her hair whipping around her face with the sharp movement.

"I'm not hungry," she seethed as she got back to her feet. Katie opened her mouth to speak but Ginny cut her off abruptly.

"I don't want to hear it," she snapped. Katie scowled.

"I-"

"No. Don't you dare! Have you even thought _once _about how Harry might be? Have you tried to see him? I suggest you do, 'cause he's lucky to be alive. YOU SHOULD BE THINKING ABOUT HIS HEALTH, NOT ABOUT YOUR NEXT QUIDDITCH GAME!" she found herself yelling. Katie looked like she'd swallowed a goblet full of Polyjuice potion.

Without another word Ginny turned and began walking from the hall, but … something was wrong … and then it hit her. No one was speaking. Looking around herself she realised that not only was no one speaking, but they were all looking at her with mouths agape … _Maybe I said all that a bit too loudly …_

-oOo-

Sirius paced Dumbledore's office floor, wearing out a strip in the crimson carpet. Remus sighed as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

"Stop worrying, Padfoot," he said, sinking deeper into the cushioned chair he sat in. Sirius stopped his endless pacing for a moment, staring in amazement at Moony.

"Stop-stop _worrying_! Dumbledore calls us into his office, and when we get here, _he_ isn't here. And then when we try to leave, the _door isn't even there_! And you're telling me to_ stop worrying!_ My godson has been going through _who knows what_ for a year, and he's just appeared out of nowhere, looking like he was about to collapse- oh wait. From what I've been told,_ HE DID!_ _I'M MEANT TO BE BY HIS SIDE RIGHT NOW!" _Sirius yelled, his hands shaking with fury.

Remus sighed again and closed his eyes._ I didn't think I'd see him like this again after N.E.W.T.s,_ Moony thought idly as he heard Sirius begin to mutter under his breath and return to his pacing. _What a year that was. James was so stressed, and with all of those Pepperup potions he'd pumped into himself, he couldn't sit still for more than a minute. I swear he didn't sleep seventh year. Peter fainted, what … four times during the tests. Sirius was like **this **every moment he wasn't cursing his way through a book, and I … I think I was in the library. _Remus smiled at the memories. _Marauders and stress don't mix very well,_ he mused. Remus looked up at Padfoot.

"Dumbledore knows what he's doing," the Professor continued as if Sirius hadn't said anything. Sirius stopped again, his head bowed and his black hair falling around his face, hiding his features. His chest rose and fell jaggedly and Remus slowly got to his feet.

"Padfoot?" he asked cautiously. Sirius didn't move, but his hands began to shake. Comprehension filled Remus's face and he dove behind his chair a moment before Sirius exploded.

"IF I DON'T GET OUT OF HERE-" a wave of magic ripped out of Sirius. The windows around the room all shattered outward as all of the books blew themselves apart. All of Dumbledore's delicate silver … 'things' exploded in a shower of sparks and a storm of shrapnel "- I'M NOT GOING TO BE AN INNOCENT **_EX -_**MURDERER ANYMORE!"

Remus lay underneath his chair, which was surprisingly still standing (though riddled with pieces of silver) and rolled his amber eyes. Sirius's ragged breathing slowly stopped and all of the pieces of debris that littered the floor stopped quivering as his shoulders slumped.

"Finished?" Remus asked as he brushed a piece of smouldering book from his shoulder. Padfoot nodded stiffly, his lips in a tight pale line as Remus got back to his feet and looked around at the damage. _I really did think this would stop after our N.E.W.T.s … definitely our most destructive year. _

-oOo-

"PLEASE PAY ATTENTION!" Snape snarled at his sixth year Gryffindor/Slytherin class. He smiled inwardly as all of his scarlet clad students shrunk away from him, and the green snickered._ Yes, this has been a good week,_ he thought, his inward smile growing as his real mouth pressed itself into a hard straight line. He was truly enjoying the absence of the Golden Trio. Weasley was no longer muttering insults under his breath, Granger wasn't showing off, and Potter … his good mood fouled and his outward expression darkened even more as it became real.

_Potter_ … Snape glared down his nose as he passed a bubbling cauldron full of sickly brown liquid that was meant to be pink. _Potter, Potter, Potter! The idiotic child! He was better off staying where he was! The Dark Lord is furious now! He's obsessed with having the boy's blood on his hands … at whatever and **whoever** the cost. At least Potter had a chance of dying peacefully in his sleep before. _

"10 points from Gryffindor! Hasn't anyone ever taught you how to cut your ingredients properly, Mr Longbottom?" he growled as he spotted the boy's trembling attempt at doing so. _Now the Dark Lord is bent on hearing Potter's dying scream and breath …_

"Miss Brown. Less talk and more slicing! 5 points from Gryffindor." Snape's scowl deepened as another thought brushed against his mind.

_And Dumbledore doesn't make matters any easier … no idea why he refused, point blank, the idea of me rescuing Potter. _Snape shuddered. It had taken a lot for him to even suggest the cursed idea. But for Dumbledore to shoot it down! _DUMBLEDORE … he's the one who's pampered the boy since he arrived here, giving him privileges …_ His shudder grew more violent … _turning a blind eye to all of his rule breaking …_ He scowled at another scarlet housed student as he passed them.

It made no sense …

_(edited 18-Nov-06 - td4)_


	15. xiv

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Fourteen**

"_This night, **His** equal will fall. Not death but malice will capture him. Stronger he will rise. Tangled webs, creeping fingers, mists of deceit, shadows of Grim, swirl up in his wake, for he is gone. Stronger he will rise. Enemies are allies in disguise. Friendly faces are mere masks for lies. Love shall stir in young hearts, but he will be gone. They must play different parts. The old is already dead, the new is ready to take his place. Both are strong, but innocent are neither. Wise and Sly twist truth and plot. Both have plans they wish fulfilled, but all is for naught. Twelve shall pass, pain for power his reward, but Stronger he will rise. Stronger he will rise."_

The words echoed around two men's minds. As they slept, the verse haunted their dreams; in their waking hours it was a steady rhythm in the background, ever constant and unwavering. Neither could ignore the words, for both knew them for the truth.

Yet, it was different parts that caused the nightmares that they woke from in starts.

"_The old is already dead, the new is ready to take his place. Both are strong, but innocent are neither."_ The Wise would twist beneath his covers as the lines repeated in his dreams cruelly. _ I have failed him, _the man would moan.

"_Twelve shall pass, pain for power his reward, but Stronger he will rise. Stronger he will rise."_ The Sly cursed the words and the hidden meaning he knew lay behind them. He knew that whatever the outcome was, it would have dire consequences for him.

_Another prophecy_, both had wanted to yell when they heard it had been made.

All Hallows Eve once again had spelt disaster for the last Potter. But …

The Wise had been present when the prediction was first foretold; he had listened with dread as each line issued from the gaping mouth in that terrible rasping voice. Yet a single line was all that penetrated his head: _Stronger he will rise._

As he had walked from his office, the seer collapsed on a chaise lounge there, it was all he could think:_ Stronger he will rise._ _Can I do this to him?_ he'd asked himself, his flowing robes brushing against the stone floor with a gentle 'shushing' sound. After everything that happened in the boy's fourth year … could he let this happen as well?

_Stronger he will rise._

He had entered the Great Hall, empty of anyone but himself, and sat in his high- backed chair centre of stage. The ill-fated words were still echoing around him. He snatched at them as they swirled in a tempest of thought, only catching snips of this and that as they passed.

_Not death but malice will capture him. Stronger he will rise. Tangled webs, creeping fingers, mists of deceit, shadows of Grim … _The old man shivered. It had nothing to do with the ice-tainted air around him.

_Enemies are allies in disguise. _The shiver stopped as abruptly as it had come.

_The old is already dead, the new is ready to take his place. Both are strong, but innocent are neither. _He slumped against the table before him, his bowed head resting on steepled fingers_. Twelve shall pass … _

"Twelve what?" he whispered. _Years?_ he thought._ Days? People? Months? Decades? _A mighty sigh escaped him. _Stronger he will rise. _ He tensed as the double doors opened. The sound of hundreds of children, all laughing and talking, filled the immense room in a moment, and he felt himself relax. The Wise man felt a tired smile tug at his lips as he looked up at the crowd filing in. _That is true magic,_ he thought as he smiled fully at one of the small first-years that glanced nervously his way. _Children, the way they see everything in its simplicity. When they look at the sun, they see nothing but a sphere of yellow. Nothing more, just a big yellow ball that gives us light. Yet I see a mass of burning gas that can burn me if I stay out too long, that casts shadows that can hide enemies. They see what they see and accept it. But they are always willing to understand, to learn more … to trust anyone whom they believe deserves that trust. _

He couldn't help it; his eyes sought out the boy whom his thoughts were occupied with. He wasn't too hard to find, with his messy black hair, wedged between the tall red head to his right and the shorter bushy brown hair to his left.

_How am I to decide your future?_ the Wise man found himself thinking as his gaze followed the short boy across the room.

Yet he did. As the banquette progressed, he realised that there wasn't a choice, there was only one thing he could do. That short little boy who should be taller but wasn't because of his poor upbringing … the little boy who was far too thin for his own good, whose eyes were hidden behind glasses, the little boy who had lived … he needed all the help he could get. And so, without a word he watched as the boy got to his feet halfway though the meal. The Wise man lowered his head as he heard the boy tell his friends that he wasn't hungry. When he finally raised his head again, the small boy was gone.

That decision haunted the man for a year. He couldn't believe he had made it. _How could I have forgotten the year before?_ he'd asked himself again and again._ The Triwizard Tournament … he proved himself so much stronger during it, so resourceful, so brave!_

He'd been a fool. Even he realised that.

-oOo-

Oh, the Sly was angry that Halloween, angry beyond words when he'd heard the news. It was only because he'd needed the fool who had delivered the information that he hadn't killed him then and there. Of course, he'd been reminded that it was the portrait that had actually gained the report, not the bumbling man. Yet … his latest plot was still in place, the orders had been given; the rules had been set … dare he change them?

The Sly looked back on his decision that day with fury coursing through his veins. He had decided to go ahead with the plan, and it had gone off without a hitch. Potter had been delivered to him, unconscious, and for his humiliation, in a hessian bag like an animal.

The Sly had stood silent, as a hooded Macnair had slouched into the highly arched room. The large hessian sack slung over his shoulder, making him lopsided as he compensated for its weight.

"Our Guessst I asssume?" the Sly hissed softly, eying the bag smugly. He could imagine the smile behind the hulking figure's mask.

"Yes, my Lord," Macnair replied as he dropped to one knee before the Sly.

"Good. He hasss done well." Everyone knew the Sly was referring to the student at Hogwarts who had captured Potter. No one needed him named.

"Shall I wake him, my Lord? It is rude not to thank you for your gracious hospitality," one of his Death Eaters asked, stepping forward slowly. The Sly looked his way, noting the white blond hair that could be seen underneath his emotionless white mask. The Sly nodded his consent, and Lucius Malfoy went over to Macnair. Macnair let the sack fall from his shoulder with an audible 'thump' to the checkered floor.

Lucius pointed his black wand at the bag. "_Enervate_," he said, and everyone present heard a muffled groan issue from the sack as it began to move.

The Death Eaters laughed as they formed a circle around the bag. Both Macnair and Malfoy joined it as the Sly stepped forward.

"Ahhhhhh," he said softly as he flicked his wrist. The bag ripped apart around the bundle it contained, revealing the boy inside.

"Welcome, Harry," the Sly said as he stepped forward. Potter sat up, his green eyes snapping around him, taking everything in … looking for an escape already, the Sly realised.

"What do you want?" the boy asked, his voice surprisingly strong as he got to his feet. The Sly was impressed. The little boy before him was not cowering. Yes, there was fear in his eyes, but he wasn't letting that fear control him. He was focused, he was calm … and the look in his eyes was calculating.

"Want? Fffrom you? Nothhhing my boy, apart for your presssence here in my humble abode," the Sly said.

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Don't screw with me. Get to the point. I'm sick of all of your games," he said coldly as his eyes flicked to a small break in the formation around him. _He's far too predictable,_ the Sly thought as Potter dived to the side. Before he was within reach of the Death Eaters, the Sly held up his hand and the boy stopped in mid-air.

"Tut, tut, Harry. None of thhhat," the Sly said as he swept his hand back towards the centre of the circle. Harry went flying and crashing into the cold hard floor. He didn't move … five minutes passed and no one stirred.

"Is he dead?" a bodiless voice asked from the circle of dark robes, breaking the silence.

The Sly's head snapped to the man's masked face, his wand suddenly in his hand. "_Crucio_!" he snapped, and the man fell, screaming to the green and black floor.

"You!" he pointed at the man beside him. "Check the boy." The Sly could see that the man was shaking as he stepped forward. He nudged Potter with his foot, and the boy rolled over, blood trickling from his hairline. The Death Eater looked back to the Sly for his next order. None came. The man turned back to the boy, and he nudged him again. Nothing. He nudged him again. Nothing. He kicked him hard in the ribs …

He yelled.

Faster than the Sly thought possible, Harry leapt to his feet and dived at the young Death Eater who had kicked him. Before he could understand what had happened, the Death Eater was motionless on the floor, and Harry Potter had a wand in his hand.

"What do you want!?" he demanded again. His calm was breaking. The Sly could tell from the way the boy was breathing and standing that the well aimed kick had broken a few ribs.

The Sly smiled.

"Quite an actor you are, Harry. You almossst had me fffooled," the Sly admitted.

Potter arched a brow. "Almost? No, I think I did. If you knew I was fine, why did you send him to check," he asked as he nodded slightly in the fallen Death Eater's direction. His wand never wavered from its aim at the Sly's chest. "Worrying about little 'ol me, are you? You shouldn't. Really," he continued.

The Sly felt anger stir in his chest. "You dare cheek me?" he demanded, taking a step forward. Harry scowled, the rebellious spark in his eyes flaring. His answer came in the form of a spell that burst from the tip of the stolen wand. The Sly almost didn't put up a shield in time; the boy had not spoken. _Silent incantations … impossible!_

"Idiotic child!" the Sly spat, hiding his astonishment behind his fury. He flung out his hand, and the wand exploded in the boy's hand, the shards impaling his palm. Grimacing, he fell to his knees, clutching his right hand to his chest; his green eyes were watering with pain. The Sly took pleasure in noticing a piece of wand that was protruding from the other side of his hand.

The Sly swept forward, his black robes flowing around him making him look almost spectral. He knelt before the boy in one gracefully swift movement,

"Do not defffy me, boy. None live long after thhhey do ssso," the Sly hissed, and Harry looked up at him, the rebellious spark in his eyes back in full flame.

The smallest of smirks tugged at the corner of his mouth as he said, "Yeah, fourteen years isn't too long, is it? Didn't I defy you way back then, essentially destroying you? I think that should be counted as a 'defying' act. How old was I … hmmmm … I think I was one, maybe even-" **SMACK!**

He hit the floor face first, his glasses shattering. This time the Sly knew he was not faking; he would not be getting up in a hurry.

The Sly man stood stiffly, looking around at the circle of his supporters, his anger barely reined. His fists were shaking, his pale face was actually gaining colour as his crimson eyes narrowed.

"Take him," he ordered, and two men hurried forward and took the unconscious boy from the room. The Sly looked around at the handful of followers still surrounding him. "Leave me," he said, and the men and women all escaped his throne room, their black cloaks billowing around them in their hurry to leave. He had no doubt that Harry Potter's insolent words would soon be known by each and every one of his Death Eaters soon.

The Sly slumped in his twisted black throne. His pale face and hands were the only things visible in the darkness that shrouded the room around him; the area was deserted of anything living or otherwise. And that was the way he liked it.

The green-flamed torches that flanked the walls at intervals cast jagged shadows around his throne. Creeping shadows … _creeping fingers, mists of deceit, shadows of Grim. _ The Sly shook the words from his head, focusing instead on the carved stone pillars that held the roof up above him.

They were covered in writhing stone snakes with emerald-studded eyes that glinted in the darkness, reflecting only the green light that the torches gave off.But the green eyes reminded him of another set of emerald eyes that had glared at him recently. He would never admit it to anyone, but the boy's words had bruised him more than any spell he had tried to cast would have.

He quickly focused elsewhere. The cold marble floor … there was nothing else to look at apart from it … black and green squares._ My chess board,_ he thought._ It's your move, Dumbledore,_ he thought snidely. The ghost of a smile crossed his face … the expression died as he noticed another colour amongst all of the black and green.

Crimson.

The boy's blood had stained the black and green marble floor.

The Sly stared in horror at the scarlet that tainted his Slytherin domain. The blood had formed four words, written in a neat but strong hand. The letters curved and swept across green and black tiles ornately, elegant and slanted, but perfectly legible.

_**Stronger he will rise.**_

_(edited 20-May-2006 - td4)_


	16. xv

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Fifteen**

Harry lay in his bed propped up with pillows, Hermione still sitting beside him. He was fighting down the blush he knew was trying to rise on his cheeks. He'd only just noticed just how close Hermione was to him.

"HARRY DEAR!" The sudden shrill cry made Harry and Hermione jump. As one they turned to the door to see a flock of redheads running at them.

Harry bit back his cry of pain as a distraught Molly sat him up and hugged him tightly. "Oh Harry! You're safe! We came as soon as we could!" she said into his hair, her voice groggy with tears. She hugged him tighter. Harry felt his breath squeezed from his lungs.

"Harry! I can't believe you're in one piece!" Fred gasped.

"How did you do it? How did you escape?!" George finished.

"Leave him alone, you two! Mum, let him breathe!" Ginny sighed in exasperation.

"I took the day off from work to see you! We've all been so worried!" Arthur said, his voice slightly choked with held back emotion.

"Frankly, I'm amazed. Delighted to have you back with us, Harry," Percy said, his tone perfectly official.

"Blimey! I've got a few mates back in Romania who would gape at your scars, and they're pretty messed up themselves!" Charlie breathed in awe as Bill thumped Harry on the back, making him swallow back another yell.

"Glad to see you again, Harry," he said.

"You're here! You're alive! You're safe!" Molly continued, her voice wobbling more with each second.

"Er … Mrs Weasley … I think you need to let him go," Hermione said as she tried to pry the crying woman off Harry. Harry felt his head begin to spin as the pain made him dizzy.

"You have no idea how worried I've been!" Molly wailed as Hermione got to her feet and used her weight to tug the Weasley out of hugging reach.

Harry collapsed back into his bed of pillows as soon as he was free, trying to focus on each of the blurry redheads in turn … the twins (he was sure the two identical blurs were them, the Weasleys were all standing too far away for him to see clearly) were out of uniform ... _Why? Is it the weekend?_ Arthur (he was the tallest blur by far, topped with a small spot of flesh colour surrounded by red) was standing beside Ginny, with one arm draped around her shoulders (Ginny was definitely the shortest blur, but she was in uniform … or wearing a black robe, it was hard to see the difference). Percy, Bill and Charlie were all standing to one side; the Percy-shaped smear was dressed in an official grey robe, Charlie was dressed in a stain of black leather, and Bill in a smudge of navy blue. Blinking, he looked through the Weasley ranks again.

"Where's Ron?" he asked, pulling himself into a sitting position. It had been a question nagging at him for a while now. _Ron said he was going to be back …_

He watched the Ginny-blur shift uneasily until she stepped forward into his range of sight; she was wearing her school robes. "He couldn't come, but he'll be in later. I promise," she said.

Before anyone could say any more, Madam Pomfrey stormed in, her face a rather strange plum colour. "What are you doing?! He is ill! He's in no state to have company! One visitor is enough! You must all leave! Right now! All of you! OUT!" she shrieked, her face darkening. Harry looked from the livid Healer to the Weasleys.

One stepped out from the others, her face was turning red, her bosom heaving as she stepped forward, brown eyes burning with … _What is that?_ Harry wondered as Molly took another step forwards so she was virtually nose-to-nose with Madam Pomfrey.

"Say another word and, so help me, I will curse your nose off!" Mrs Weasley hissed. "Harry is my son in every way but blood! We. Are. All. His. Family! His hand on the clock is being made as we speak!" she continued. Harry felt his heart clench painfully at her words … warmth flooded through him as he absorbed this new bit of information. The pain was not unpleasant. _They're putting me on their clock?_ he thought, feeling his eyes sting. He blinked them quickly.

Looking up he saw that Poppy was utterly confused. _"Clock?"_ she mouthed, her eyes wide in puzzlement. Molly didn't seem to notice.

"Would you ask another patient's Mother to leave her child's bedside?" Molly demanded, ice in her voice.

The Healer pursed her lips. "You're not his-" She didn't go any further. Faced with eight wands, she paled considerably.

A ninth quickly joined them.

"Say 'Mother' and you won't like the consequences," Hermione said quietly. Her hair, which was still messy from sleep, somehow looked wilder as her eyes flashed. Harry couldn't help but notice how Hermione radiated power at that moment. He doubted even Voldemort would defy her right then.

Poppy looked from the wands to the faces of those that held them, and then finally to Harry. "Call me for any reason," she said briskly before she fled from the room.

Everyone quickly slid their wands into sleeves, pockets, and waistbands. They all scurried around the room and dragged all of the chairs around to his bedside as if nothing had happened. The sound of the wood grating against the stone floor made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"How are you, dear?" Harry squinted over at Molly who was still dragging her chair over more quietly than the others had.

"Sore," he answered after a moment. _What else can I say?_ he thought as he sat back into his pillows, enjoying their softness. Molly quickly put her chair next to his bedside table, and Hermione sat back down next to Harry again. All of the chairs had been taken.

"You look really-" George began but Ginny quickly elbowed him. He rubbed at his ribs as Fred finished for him.

"Awful."

Ginny elbowed him too. Harry felt a small grin form on his bruised face. _At least some things are still the same,_ he thought.

"I know," he admitted. He hadn't actually seen himself yet, but if the small aches and pains meant anything, he knew he wasn't looking his best. He heard the sheets crumple slightly and looked down inconspicuously. Hermione had discreetly laced her fingers back through his. He looked away slowly, loathing the fact that he couldn't feel her hand in his.

Molly bent over and began to scrounge through her handbag. A moment later she straightened, a pair of rectangular glasses in her hand. She looked back up at Harry with a sad smile. "Thought you might have misplaced your old pair," she said as she handed them to him. He smiled as he took them from her and placed them on his face. _Trust her to think of that. _

The room immediately came into focus, all of the blurred shapes at the far end of the room became defined and clear … the new weight on his nose was foreign yet familiar. It had been almost a year since he had worn his glasses. It was a feeling he'd missed; he'd felt naked without them.

"Thank you," he said quietly, amazed at how congested he felt from holding back his tears. _Is this what it feels like to have a mother?_ he couldn't help but think. Molly smiled and made to embrace him but stopped herself; she quickly folded her hands in her lap. Harry felt a small pang in his chest; he wouldn't have pushed her away.

-oOo-

Sirius had returned to his pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, back and- Remus was beginning to get seasick … _In fact, I think I might sit down_, he thought as he did just that, clutching at his spinning head.

Sirius spared him a glance without stopping his attempt at destroying a line in Dumbledore's carpet. "You okay? You're looking a tad green," he muttered, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets.

"Fine, fine," Moony said, waving the question away … for a second the room dipped, and he was very glad to be sitting down. He was sure he'd have fallen over if he'd been standing.

Sirius stopped and went over to him, a concerned frown on his face. "You sure? I know the full moon's coming up. You really do look a bit green," he said.

Remus shook his head. "I'm fine," he repeated.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Sure you are," he muttered, sitting down in the seat beside him. As he flopped down, a clump of stuffing escaped the pillow. The two of them hadn't made any attempt to clean up the mess Sirius had made. Padfoot surveyed the damage he'd done with a satisfied smirk. "Bet I get a detention," he said.

Remus smirked as he sat back in his chair, still riddled with bits of metal. "I think you might be a bit too old for that, Padfoot," he said, letting his heavy eyes close.

Sirius laughed. "Think that will stop him? Look at this!" he said proudly, gesturing grandly around the room. "Old Dumbledore's going to want my head! ... And I'm not old!"

Remus chuckled, sitting back up slowly. For some reason his joints were all aching. _That doesn't usually happen until at least two days before the full moon,_ he noted, shaking his groggy head.

Sirius looked back at him, the smile on his face dying. "You're sure you're okay?" he asked, putting a hand on Remus' shoulder.

Moony rolled his eyes. "Yes, Padfoot, I'm-" he sneezed. The sharp movement made the room spin wildly, and he slumped back against the chair, closing his eyes tightly.

"Come on. I'm taking you to the hospital wing. No complaining!" Sirius snapped as he got to his feet, slowly helping Remus up too. Remus sniffed, feeling his body complain as he stood upright.

"In case you haven't noticed, or perhaps you've just forgotten, the door has decided to hide itself from us," Moony reminded him. Pointing at where the door _should_ be, it was just a bare stretch of wall. Sirius ground his teeth together. "And anyway, like I said. I'm_ fine_!" Remus snapped as he yanked his arm free of Sirius' grasp. Moony was appalled to find himself stumbling without his friend's support.

Luckily Sirius didn't notice. He was looking curiously at a cabinet over in the corner near the wall Remus had pointed out. The door was half open, and silverly light was shining up from the gap to the ceiling. It looked like reflected water … "What's that?" Sirius asked as he went forward, forgetting about his concern for a moment.

Remus sighed and stumbled over to Padfoot's side, his balance still askew. "It's Dumbledore's, that's what it is," he said, leaning on Sirius' shoulder, his breath slightly wheezing.

Sirius arched a brow in Moony's direction. "This is 'fine?' You can barely stand!" he said, his eyes still glued to the cabinet door in front of him.

Remus sneezed again, making his skin rise into goosebumps. "I guess I'm just getting my symptoms earlier this month," Moony muttered, fighting off the shudder that was creeping up his spine.

Sirius shook his head. "Whatever you say," he said as he reached out and opened the door.

"Holy- the old man's got a Pensieve!" Sirius gasped, his grey-blue eyes reflecting the silver light eerily.

Remus knew that look. Yes, he knew _that_ look very well. "Don't do anything stupid," he warned.

Padfoot shook his head. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said as he thrust his face into the silver liquid.

-oOo-

"You put me on your clock?" Harry asked slowly, not wanting his voice to give anything away.

Molly smiled. "Oh, I've been wanting to for years," she said, smiling at him affectionately.

Fred scoffed. "You should have heard her," he said.

"Going on about you," George put in.

"And on …" Fred said, rolling his eyes.

"And on!" George added, rolling his eyes in unison with Fred.

"Even before … er …" Fred stumbled over the words.

"You went away," George came up with.

"She'd worry about you just as much as any Weasley!" Fred finished, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Bit annoying really," George said after a moment.

"Five brothers are enough," Fred said. Ginny arched a brow and sat up straighter as she cleared her thoughts.

"Oh yeah, and a sister. Don't worry, ickle Ginny-kins. We wouldn't forget about you!" the twins said in unison as they hugged her from both sides. Everyone present smirked as Ginny shrieked, trying to escape both of her brothers at once.

"You're lucky you're in Hogwarts right now," Arthur said softly, shuffling his chair closer to Harry's bed as everyone began to chant Ginny, Fred or George's name as they began to brawl playfully. ("GINNY! GINNY! Come on! Grab his hair!" "Ooooo, are you gonna let her get away with that? Stand up and be a man!" "This is so immature … NO! GET HER EAR! HER EAR!") Molly sighed as she got to her feet to break it up.

"Why?" Harry asked quietly, not sure why Arthur looked so worried. Hermione leant over Harry, her face asking her questions by itself.

"The Ministry's in an uproar, and the press aren't helping matters. They'd be swarming all over you if you were in St Mungo's. Everyone wants Fudge to resign. They all think he should have done more to try and help you," he said. Harry fought back a shiver. The press was one thing he didn't want to face right now.

"There's been nothing about this in the papers," Hermione said, her brow creasing. Harry tried to focus on Arthur's face as Hermione's hair brushed against his shoulder.

Mr Weasley smiled grimly. "The Ministry's trying to keep it quiet. Anyone found on the premises who's with the press is given a fine and thrown out. But the precautions aren't working very well. I have a feeling that the _Prophet's_ next edition will be very juicy." Hermione's frown deepened at the eldest Weasley's words.

"How did the Ministry even find out about Harry? I heard Professor McGonagall tell the Heads of House that no owls were to be sent," she said.

Harry felt his face fall slightly as he turned to her. "I have a feeling that owls would have been flying before the Heads even got to their common rooms to pass on the message," he said flatly.

Arthur nodded. "They were. Everyone was writing to their families to tell them that 'Harry Potter had returned', and you'd be surprised how many students have parents in the Ministry, or connections to them somehow," Mr Weasley informed them. Hermione sat back in her place, her eyes still calculating.

-oOo-

Sirius looked around himself in confusion; he was still in Dumbledore's office …

"You're such an idiot, Sirius!" Remus snapped, making Padfoot jump.

He turned to Remus and arched a brow. "If I'm such an idiot, why didn't you let go? You could have easily stayed out of the memory …" Sirius looked around himself again. "We are in a memory, right?" he asked.

Remus rolled his eyes as he looked around himself. The truth was that he had tried to let go of Sirius' shoulder … but his head had spun too much, and he'd needed to cling onto Padfoot's shoulder to stay standing. Moony pointed to the window. "Before it was morning, here it's nearing dusk. Plus the furniture isn't destroyed," he said.

Sirius arched a brow, and Remus groaned softly.

"Yes, Padfoot. We are in a memory," he confirmed.

Sirius grinned. "See? Was that so hard?" he asked.

Remus rolled his eyes again as he stumbled over to one of the chairs, sitting down heavily. "Surely you've noticed the lack of destruction?" he asked.

Sirius' grin widened, a mischievous glint coming to his eyes. "Of course I did, I just-" The door to Dumbledore's office suddenly opened. The two men turned in unison to see Professor Trelawney, her glasses askew and her shawl hanging crookedly from her shoulders.

"Albus! Albus!" she called.

Dumbledore's voice wafted from the study behind the main office. "I'm coming, my dear, I'm coming," he called. A second later he appeared in one of the doorways, dark blue robes trailing against the floor. "What troubles you, Sybill?" he asked kindly, coming forward and steering her towards a chair. It was only then that Remus noticed she was shaking.

"What's spooked her?" Sirius asked, all mischief dead in his voice. At the moment he was living up to his namesake.

"Sybill?" Dumbledore prompted.

"I-I've been gazing, Professor. I was seeing a tangle of webs … so many different fates are intertwining … everything was a jumble of mist and future! I-I- my Inner Eye is in turmoil! My skin is buzzing with-" she broke off with a jagged breath, her eyes massive behind her overlarge glasses.

"Calm down, my dear," Dumbledore said soothingly, sitting down beside her.

"It has never been so powerful! So pressing!" she whispered, her face growing pale.

Dumbledore's face suddenly went ashen. His eyes lost any of the twinkle that had been lurking at the back of the blue depths as he suddenly looked old. Truly old … and frail, drawn, sickly ... he looked so tired.

"Do not resist it, Sybill," he said quietly, and suddenly Professor Trelawney went rigid. Her mouth began to gape as she sucked at the air, as if she couldn't get enough oxygen. And suddenly she began to speak, her voice grating at her throat.

"_This night, **His** equal will fall. Not death but malice will capture him. Stronger he will rise. Tangled webs, creeping fingers, mists of deceit, shadows of Grim, swirl up in his wake, for he is gone. Stronger he will rise. Enemies are allies in disguise. Friendly faces are mere masks for lies. Love shall stir in young hearts, but he will be gone. They must play different parts. The old is already dead, the new is ready to take his place. Both are strong, but innocent are neither. Wise and Sly twist truth and plot. Both have plans they wish fulfilled, but all is for naught. Twelve shall pass, pain for power his reward, but Stronger he will rise. Stronger he will rise."_

Silence.

-oOo-

_(edited 11-Jun-2006 - td4)_


	17. xvi

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Sixteen**

"I'm going to kill him!" Sirius yelled, making the dizzy man beside him jump. Though Remus wouldn't say as much, he felt the same._ How could he not tell us!?_

"I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!" Sirius yelled again, his robes beginning to flow around him, played with by a non-existent wind. The memory dissolved around them, and suddenly they were back in the present-time Dumbledore's office. Remus quickly stumbled over to one of the chairs, feeling his stomach rebel as he sat, both at the idea of what Dumbledore had done, and because of the way the room was spinning around him.

"Sirius?" Remus asked quietly, his vision was beginning to tunnel in as well as spin, his hands were shaking, and he had a rancid taste in his mouth that wouldn't go away no matter how much he swallowed. "I really don't feel very well," he muttered while swaying where he sat. He looked up at Sirius slowly, who was still standing beside the Pensieve.

"I'm going to kill him," he muttered slowly through clenched teeth. Remus knew what was about to happen again. But he didn't have the strength to take cover.

"HE LET HARRY GET TAKEN!" Sirius roared and everything that wasn't already broken exploded. Remus just closed his eyes as the air grew hot around him; no fire was burning … but knowing Sirius that wouldn't last long. Even as the thought crossed his mind, Remus heard the small roar of a fire bursting to life.

"Sirius!" Remus yelled, fighting to get up through the tempest of rushing air tumbling around him. He squinted around himself through the sea of red and gold sparks, all the while everything was still spinning.

"PADFOOT! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL US!" Remus howled as fire rose up and began to consume the wall beside him, the flames a mixture of gold, scarlet and … black?

**Thud**

-oOo-

Ginny smiled as she approached the Quidditch pitch, the chilly wind whipping her hair around her face and making her robes billow out to the side. She hoisted her broom higher on her shoulder, her smile widening as she went over her plan in her head.

Half an hour before she had promised Harry that her oaf of a brother would visit him, and she never broke a promise.

_- "Where's Ron?" Harry asked, pulling himself into a sitting position. Ginny could tell by the look on his face that it had been a question nagging at him for awhile now. _Ron you idiot, Harry's your best friend, why are you doing this to him?

_Ginny began to shift uneasily. _Should I lie to him? ... or bend the truth a little bit? _Ginny shook her head. _What sort of question is that?_ She stepped forward, her plan coming forward in her mind. _

"_He couldn't come, but he'll be in later. I promise," she said. -_

Ginny shook the memory from her head, but a second later another filled its place.

- _Arthur had pulled his chair closer to Harry's bed, and was now whispering quietly to both him and Hermione. Ginny meanwhile was tumbling with both Fred and George on the floor._

"_GINNY! GINNY!" Charlie chanted. "Come on! Grab his hair!" he added as he watched on. Ginny grinned as she did so. But as soon as her face was close enough to Fred's ear she whispered, "I need your help."_

"_Ooooo, are you gonna let her get away with that? Stand up and be a man!" Bill ordered. Fred beamed, both at Bill's words and Ginny's. "With what, oh little sister of mine?" he whispered back as he grabbed her shoulders and pinned her to the floor. _

"_This is so immature … NO! GET HER EAR! HER EAR!" Percy suddenly screeched and George complied with a chuckle. Ginny squealed and turned on her other brother._

"_Stop that!" she yelped. "I have a far more interesting thingy you can help me with," she added in an undertone. George's eyes lit up. "Do tell," he whispered. -_

"Ginny! Hurry up!" Katie whined loudly, snapping Ginny back to the present.

"I'm coming!" she called, dropping her broom from her shoulder and dashing forward.

"Finally Ginny, how slow can you walk? Daydreaming, were you?" Katie asked snidely. "Because Harry's back?" she prompted, with an edge to her tone. Looking up with a red face, Ginny realised that her captain hadn't forgotten her outburst at breakfast.

"Well, I'm here now. Can we get on with this?" Ginny asked waspishly. Katie looked like she was about to retort, but Ginny added an arched brow to her already irritated expression. Katie looked around at her team slowly, at her Keeper especially. The look on Ron's face dared the seventh year to go on … there'd be consequences if she did, the look promised.

"Mount up," Katie ground out, twitching slightly as she looked away from Ron's affronting glare. The team did so quickly before the girl exploded. They rose hastily into the air and took their positions without a word, looking at each other with small smiles. They were all used to Katie's moods. Katie remained on the ground, propping her broom against the stands as she went and opened the chest containing the balls for practice. As she did Ron flew over to Ginny, concern on his face.

"What was that about?" he asked quietly, eyeing his captain suspiciously. Ginny looked at her brother incredulously.

"You missed breakfast today, didn't you?" Ginny stated.

Ron nodded slowly. "Yeah I did … why? What happened?" he asked.

Ginny shook her head. "We just had an argument, that's all," she explained as Katie released the Bludgers and Snitch. Bundling the Quaffle under her arm she mounted, joining everyone in the air. "You better get to the goals; she doesn't look like she's in a very good mood," Ginny warned, seeing the red spots of anger on Katie Bell's cheeks. Ron nodded, shooting her one last glance before swooping back to the goal posts.

"Okay. Can everyone hear me?!" Katie demanded. She looked at Ron, who was the furthest away, who gave a quick thumbs up to show he could. "Okay! Let's just do a few circuits, get warmed up, avoid the Bludgers … think of it as a little game of dodge ball!" she called before speeding off, beginning her first lap.

Ginny groaned, her fingers itching to catch the small golden ball that hovered near the Hufflepuff stands. With a sigh she followed the rest of the Gryffindors and became another red and gold blur circling the pitch. _My plan can wait a few circuits …_ Ginny thought with a grin as she pressed her body to the aerodynamic shape of her slim Cleansweep and threw on a spurt of speed.

-oOo-

Remus opened his eyes slowly to see the blurry figure of Sirius hovering above him. He blinked his eyes groggily, expecting his vision to sharpen … but it didn't.

"Padfoot." The word came out as a hoarse croak, tearing at his tender throat. Sirius face was caked in ash, but Remus couldn't hear any flames. "Wha?"

"Shuuushh. I … er … found the door," Padfoot said as he crouched over him. Remus tried to get to his feet but he couldn't. He couldn't even lift his head. "Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital wing," Sirius said, and before Moony could complain Sirius had lifted him up and slung him over his shoulder like sack of bezoars.

Normally Remus would have protested at the humiliation of such a hold, but at the moment all of his consciousness was concentrating on keeping his lunch down. A second later Sirius began to lurch forward. Remus would have laughed had he seen the hole in the wall that Padfoot had christened a 'door', but he had passed out again.

-oOo-

Dumbledore muttered as he pawed through book after ancient book, his eyes swivelling side to side so fast that they looked like a blur. His long silver hair was pushed over his shoulder along with his beard, and the long purple robe he wore had the sleeves pulled up so they wouldn't get in his way.

A soft flute-like noise began to trill a long pure note and Dumbledore jerked up, blinking his eyes. He quickly got to his feet and hurried over to a small golden cauldron, which bubbled over an enchanted fire, and plucked a long glass rod from its centre and gave it three strong stirs.

He put the rod back down gently, picking up a clear crystal goblet instead and collected his wand from behind his ear. With a smooth motion he drew a strand of the potion from the cauldron and lowered the liquid rope into the cup he held. He put his wand back behind his ear and brought the goblet up to the light and peered at its contents.

The liquid was bright green, and clear as an emerald. The light pierced through it with ease and cast the old man's face aglow with green light. His thick white brows drew together in surprise as he inspected the concoction intently. With a bewildered shake of his head he poured the potion back into the cauldron and replaced the charm that would tell him that it was ready to be checked.

With weary bones he sat back at his chair, pulling the book he had been reading towards him. "Harry, my dear boy, you never cease to amaze me," he muttered as he continued to read. He turned the page with a thought, his eyes once again becoming a blur. They stopped in a second, and a long bony finger snapped up and began to trace the line he had found.

'_-for those unfortunate few who have lost the ability to wield a wand, through backfiring spells or physical damage, there are only three options the wandless one can take. _

_One is the Centris Charm, a short lived spell that will allow a person to control spells mentally, but this charm will only last one moon, and once it has worn off, can only be cast again after a another moon cycle has past._

_The second choice is the Adven Potion, which, once administered, will create a bronze glove that will cover the afflicted hand. This glove will act as a normal hand would. But once the glove has been put into place it cannot be removed; it melds with the bone and eventually will replace the living hand beneath it. This is a very painful side effect that cannot be avoided. Once this has happened, one of two things can occur. One is that the bronze will begin to seep into the bone structure of the one wielding the glove. This strengthens the bones to such a degree that there is no record of an Adven Wizard ever breaking a bone and in some cases the wizard becomes impervious to certain spells. But, there are numerous records of Adven Wizards drowning, because of the dense bronze bone structure, and of muscle strain, because of the immense weight that the Adven has to carry. Advens almost always develop faulty joints, once again because of the immense weight Adven Wizards have to carry. Death is the other outcome that can ensue after the Adven glove has been donned. This occurs when the wizard's body rejects the hand, but because it cannot be removed the wandless one dies. _

_The third choice is the simplest, but also the hardest to make. Live without. _

_Of course, there is always wandless magic to consider when these circumstances occur. It is of course, very tedious to control and takes years to get even the smallest grasp on, but-' _

Dumbledore stopped reading. A heavy burden had once again fallen on his frail shoulders. He could cast the Centris Charm on Harry. But every second month he would be completely defenceless. He could ask Severus to make the Adven Potion … but could he tell Harry that by putting on the glove he had probably sentenced himself either to physical failure in some manner or death? Dumbledore couldn't even think of the third option. And of course wandless magic was out of the question. It would take a lifetime to learn to control the smallest of spells, and frankly, Dumbledore doubted Harry could even do that. Yes, his powers were immense … _but not that immense_.

Suddenly another charm began chiming its alert. With a swish of a fabric and the snap of a book being shut he was back on his feet, his tiredness forgotten with his wand in his hand.

"Why can't you stay put, Black? You meddling-" he sighed as he stopped himself, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. _He's just worried. I cannot blame him for that …_ Albus straightened his shoulders and threw a handful of green powder into the fire. In a flare of green flames the room was empty.

-oOo-

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey!" Harry grumbled, and the Weasleys that were still present smirked. Poppy glared at them all, and Molly's hand began to creep towards her wand.

"I'm not going to ask you to leave!" Poppy snapped, eyeing Mrs Weasley impatiently.

"Good. As it should be," Molly huffed, sitting back in her chair as she crossed her arms and legs. Poppy made an irritated noise in the back of her throat as she turned back to her patient.

"You need more Fraygen. You're still far too thin," Poppy said, ignoring Molly completely. She pushed the goblet towards him and he turned away. The purple liquid smelt like vomit.

"I'm fine!" Harry tried to repeat, but as soon as his mouth opened Madam Pomfrey had pushed the goblet to his lips and he was forced to swallow it all. He gagged and spluttered, and Poppy leant back, the smallest of smiles on her face.

"There. Was that so bad?" she asked.

Harry gaped at her, his eyes watering from the foul potion and the burning aftertaste. "You have got to be kidding! Can't you smell it? It tastes like -" he stopped as Hermione chuckled. He turned to her, a scowl on his face. "What?" he demanded.

Hermione grinned. "Imagine what it would taste like _without _the sweetener. What with all of the -" Harry cut her off quickly, putting his shaking hand over her mouth.

"I don't want to know what's in the potion, okay Hermione? I still have to drink it tomorrow … and the day after that … and most likely the day after that as well," he muttered, pulling his hand away slowly. Her smile faltered slightly, and Harry bit the inside of his cheek … feeling bad that he had made her smile fall.

Arthur jumped slightly and reached into a pocket, taking out and looking at a dinged silver pocket watch with a groan. "I'm sorry, but I have to get back to the Ministry," Arthur said regrettably as he got to his feet. He held out the watch from his pocket, so Harry and Hermione could see its flashing blue face. "I'm needed. I'll see you on the weekend Harry. I do believe the Weasleys have scheduled another visit then," he said with a smile as he looked to his wife who nodded.

"See you at dinner dear, boys, and girl." He nodded to his wife, two eldest sons, and then at Harry and Hermione. He pushed his chair back into place before he left quickly, shutting the big doors behind him gently.

Bill and Charlie got up, too. "We should be going as well," Bill said.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, Bill haz a date wiz Fleur," Charlie said with a smirk, putting on a heavy French accent.

"It's a lesson," Bill muttered, his cheeks reddening.

Harry's eyes widened. "Fleur? As in Fleur Delacour!?" he demanded, sitting up sharply. "As in the Fleur I met-" Harry's voice trailed off. "-last year" he finished. The words felt strange on his tongue ..._ I missed a whole year …_

Bill looked uncomfortable; his eyes kept flicking to his mother who had a sour look on her face.

"Yep. 'Ze one an' Onlee," Charlie said, fluttering his lashes at Bill, who scowled.

"How did you two meet?" Harry asked. He noticed Hermione was looking at him strangely but ignored it.

"I'm teaching her English … er, better English," he said. His eyes flicked back to his mother, whose expression was still tart. "Yes. Well, I can't keep her waiting. See you another time, Harry," Bill said before rushing from the room.

Charlie chuckled. As soon as Bill left, Molly began to mutter under her breath, a murderous look on her face. Charlie came and sat beside Harry, having seen his confused expression.

"Mum doesn't like Fleur. She, like all of us, knows that Bill and Fleur are getting serious. They're seeing each other every day for 'lessons'. She thinks Fleur only likes Bill because of his looks. I don't think Bill's that dumb. He wouldn't be seeing her this much if she was so shallow," he explained. Harry nodded slowly, still trying to swallow the fact that the two had even met, let alone were dating. Charlie glanced at his watch. "Well, I'm off. I have a floo call at nine I can't miss. See you all later," he said with a jolly smile. "Bye, Mum," he called before he left.

Harry sat back, but the pillows were suddenly too soft, and the mattress too warm. He pushed the blankets off himself and sat up, crossing his legs beneath himself.

Molly got up. "You must be hungry!" she trilled. "I'll see what I can rustle up for you, dear. Those house elves were always so nice to me in my Hogwarts days. I wonder if they'll recognise me," she said, picking up her handbag. "I'll be right back," she promised before she left as well. As soon as the door closed behind her, Hermione put her hand on Harry's knee.

Harry fought back a smile as he felt it. His hands were as good as useless, dead in almost every aspect. They couldn't grip anything … and they couldn't feel anything either. What else were they good for?

Yet, he could still feel the bed beneath him, his hair touching his shoulders lightly, Hermione's hand on his knee. He tried to pinch himself to stop the smile that was still trying to form on his lips, but his clumsy fingers botched the action, and he bit back a growl of frustration and anger.

"You okay?" Hermione asked, jolting Harry from his thoughts. He looked to her and nodded.

"I'm fine," he said, trying to cross his fingers behind his back. They wouldn't. With a growl he forgot that Hermione was there and brought his hands in front of his face. He glared at the scarred palms as he fought back infuriated tears. The half-curled fingers looked horrible, pale and marked with knotted white skin and small burns ... Suddenly a blemish-free hand came into his range of sight and curled around his own ugly hands. He looked up at Hermione slowly, hating the fact that he had forgotten she was there, and had shown her his ongoing discomfort. Every time he tried to do the simplest things, he was reminded that he couldn't and most likely wouldn't be doing them again.

"They're so cold," she said quietly. Harry bit his lip to hold back a bitter retort … or maybe more tears.

"Are they?" he asked as he took his hands from hers. She replaced her hand on his knee and he couldn't help but feel his nerves unwind slightly. _I **can** still feel,_ he reminded himself stubbornly.

"I could get you gloves," she said suddenly. Harry blinked, confusion written on his face. "I know how you don't like to look at them," she explained. Harry looked back down at his hands and couldn't deny Hermione's words. He didn't like to look at the misshapen digits. They reminded him, not only that they didn't work as they should, but of his lost year. He pushed his hands back behind his back.

"I … I would like that," he muttered. Hermione smiled.

"Good. I'll order you a pair tomorrow," she promised.

"My vault number's 687 -" Hermione cut him off quickly.

"No. You're not going to pay for them, okay? This is something I want to do for you. No complaining," she added. Harry shot her a rueful smile. He'd been about to do just that.

"Now, what was that back with Charlie? You looked …" Hermione trailed off, brushing a stray hair behind her ear.

Harry pushed all thoughts of his hands from his mind. He didn't want to think about them. "It's just that, until now I haven't really noticed that, well, I've missed a whole year," Harry admitted, the words tumbling unbidden from his mouth. He looked up at her. "What else have I missed?" he asked. Hermione paused for a moment and then let the stray hair fall.

"Classes, your O.W.L.s, a few Quidditch matches. Ginny took your place, but only after Katie threatened her for awhile. Oh, Katie Bell's the new captain, since Angelina left … she graduated. Remus is back as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. The parents all seem to think that a werewolf is nothing compared with Voldemort being back. A few of them are actually glad that he's one. They seem to think that Voldemort wouldn't dare attack us with Professor Lupin here," Hermione told him.

He felt a smile tug at his lips. "I'm glad he's back. He was the only decent DADA teacher we've ever had," he said.

"I made a scrap book of all of the articles the Daily Prophet wrote. I can get it if you want," Hermione said.

Harry bit his lip as he nodded. "That would be good," he admitted.

For a moment, uneasy silence strained between them. "And a lot of tears … we all thought you were dead," Hermione added slowly, squeezing his knee tightly for a second. But Harry knew it was more to reassure herself that he was real, rather than give any comfort.

They sat like that for awhile, just enjoying each other's company. No words were shared, but they were fine with that. After awhile, whenever the bed shifted beneath him, Harry would fidget, and Hermione would shoot him a concerned look.

The bed still felt wrong. With a groan he slung his legs to the side, breaking the comforting contact Hermione had on his knee. The whole room was too small! The air was too stuffy, and it reminded him of his cell -_cold- darkness- rancid smells- thick air heavy with the stench of death-_ Harry shook the half-formed memories from his head quickly.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, getting up as well.

"I need to get out. I'm going for a walk. Do you know where I can find a robe? Can't go out in pyjamas," he said, getting to his feet. He looked longingly out the window, where he could just see the Quidditch pitch … specs of red were racing around it … he wanted to watch the practice session so much! He wanted to feel cool air on his face … and the smell of wet grass was always at the edge of his dreams … would he be allowed to touch a broomstick? Maybe try and fly?-

"What are you doing!?"

Harry cringed at the sharp words as the hopeful thoughts fell apart in his head._ Can she see through walls or something?_ he wondered as he looked up at Madam Pomfrey guiltily.

"Er … stretching my legs?" he suggested. Poppy's eyes narrowed.

"You are not going anywhere young man! Back in your bed! NOW!" she shrieked. Harry sat back down quickly.

"Yes ma'am," he said hastily.

-oOo-

Sirius walked through the halls at a quick trot, careful not to jolt his cargo too much. Remus was still slung over his shoulder. Padfoot's face was covered with ash, and by the smell of it, at least one of his eyebrows was burnt off. He kept on walking, only pausing to look around corners … _If a student sees me … _Sirius shook the thought from his head. It ended with a kiss.

Suddenly a doorway behind him snapped open, and laughter bubbled into the hallway like a noxious gas. Sirius froze, his heart thudding audibly in his chest. He turned slowly, feeling his gut sink ever lower as he saw a gaggle of Ravenclaws, all talking amongst themselves, heading for the library. As he looked, one of the older students noticed his presence. She looked at him with a frown; suddenly recognition filled her round face.

She screamed bloody murder.

"SHIT!" Sirius spat, jolting into a sprint. Remus groaned on his shoulder and Sirius bit his lip, urging himself faster still. _Sorry Moony, but right now I can't slow down._

"SIRIUS BLACK! HE'S IN HOGWARTS! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!" the Ravenclaw yelled behind him. Sirius skidded around a corner almost sliding into the opposite wall. _Stupid melodramatic pigeon! _his mind babbled as he ran faster, his breath rasping from his chest.

-oOo-

Ginny was still circling the pitch; it was her twenty-seventh round. She shot a glare at Katie who was a few meters below her. _Can we stop yet!?_ she demanded silently. As she thought it, a Bludger took a shot at her, but without slowing her pace she slid around her broom, hung upside down for a moment and then righted herself in one fluid movement. By then the Bludger was long gone and her temper had only risen.

She growled deep in her throat and pulled to a stop. "Come on, Katie! If you're still sore about this morning, take it out on _ME!_ NOT THE TEAM!" she yelled, her face glowing red with her annoyance. Katie spun on the spot, her broom's tail only missing Demelza Robins' face by an inch.

"WHAT!" she demanded, her own cheeks gaining colour. Ginny threw on a spurt of speed that brought her within a breath of Katie's broom.

"You heard me!" she growled, eyes aflame. Katie's knuckles became white as she gripped her broomstick tighter.

"You little-" she stopped herself quickly. "This is exactly what I've been planning for this practice for weeks! Breakfast changed nothing! Just because you're still drooling after Harry doesn't mean that everything's going to change because he's back! Yes, I would love to have him back on the team! He's a brilliant flyer! But one fight is not GOING TO MAKE ME TREAT _MY TEAM_ UNFAIRLY!" Katie bellowed. Ginny scowled, her brown eyes narrowing as her face heated up even more._ I'm not drooling after Harry,_ she thought indignantly.

"Fine. Whatever you say, _Captain. _Can we start already?" Ginny asked coldly, crossing her arms tightly across her chest and averting her gaze.

Katie was breathing deeply, but she quickly closed her eyes and calmed herself down. By this time the whole team was surrounding them.

"Into your positions," Katie said as she opened her eyes, the red spots on her cheeks fading. She tossed the Quaffle (which had still been under her arm) up into the air and a red blur swooped in, catching the ball and whisking it away. The real practice had started.

Bludgers were flying left, right, and centre. Team mates were yelling for the ball, Ron was covering the hoops with everything he had. And Ginny had spotted the Snitch.

She'd been tracking it since it had been released.

With a grin she dived towards the little golden ball that was whizzing just above the ground.

The Chasers stopped to watch her plummet towards the ground. She began to go faster, and faster … and faster.

"Ginny! Ease off a little!" Katie yelled.

… and faster.

Ron yelled as Ginny crashed into the ground.

-oOo-

_(edited 24-Aug-2006 - td4)_


	18. xvii

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Sirius knew he was in BIG trouble. The Ravenclaw was still screaming behind him, he was running like a guilty man in the opposite direction, and he had an unconscious-_wait scratch that,_ Remus's eyes were fluttering open.

"You're fine, eh? FINE?!" Padfoot puffed as he skidded around a corner. Remus groaned, his eyes glazed and his breath wheezing. Sirius quickened his sprint as he noticed a strange purple rash creeping up Moony's cheek.

"That does not bode well."

Padfoot reeled, spinning around so quickly that Remus almost tumbled from his shoulder. Sirius strained to heave the heavy man back in place, a vein in his neck popping. Sirius was tall and strong, Remus was just a head shorter and even stronger, but his extra lycan strength equalled extra weight as well!

Albus Dumbledore stood calmly behind him, his sweeping purple sleeves hanging at his sides in perfect neat folds, his long beard hanging to his waist majestically, and his arms crossed across his chest in a casual manner. The only thing different about the old headmaster from what Sirius remembered from his own school days, was that lacking blue twinkle in his eyes.

But the spark that had ignited in Sirius's grey-blue made up for that easily.

_He let Harry get taken!_

"You _sick_ bastard," Padfoot growled, his hands shaking with fury as his face turned red. For a moment Sirius's mind returned to its primal canine form. He'd spent a long time as an Animagus after his escape; some of his more 'dog-like' characteristics had stuck. For just one second, Sirius longed to leap forward and sink his long sharp teeth into the old man's flesh. The urge died quickly, but the fury didn't.

"You _LET _Harry get taken! You let him leave! He's been gone a year because of you! He almost died! You would have let him die! You LET HIM GET KIDNAPPED! FOR WHAT!? ANOTHER **_PROPHECY!_**? ANOTHER **RHYME**?!" Sirius yelled, spit flying from his mouth mixing with his harsh words ... true, cruel, but harsh. He faintly noticed that the Ravenclaw and her friends had fled.

Padfoot watched as Albus's eyes widened, the show of surprise was so minute that most people wouldn't have noticed it. But Sirius had trusted the old man before him. For years he had been his friend, he had watched out for him! Sirius's mind began to wander beneath the thick layer of spite. Albus had given up on him the moment he had set foot in Azkaban. He, along with everyone else, had never asked for a trial for him. Albus Dumbledore had had the power even back then to give Sirius that, the one thing that would have set him free, but he hadn't. The Ministry said he was guilty! So Sirius Black was guilty of betraying his real family, the only family he would call as such. The family he would have protected with his life. _Did he let me go to Azkaban because of a prophecy, too?_

His mind had returned from the past a second after it had left. "WELL?" Sirius demanded. He wanted the old manipulative fool to explain how he had done such a thing!

But Albus remained silent.

Before Sirius could say another word he paled. His friends amber eyes had rolled into the back of his head and he had begun to twitch.

Albus's keen eyes snapped to the professor and sharpened. "He needed to be in the hospital wing two minutes ago," he told Sirius.

"WHERE DO YOU THINK I WAS RUNNING TO?" Padfoot roared. A second later the rash on Remus's cheek had jumped up and covered the rest of his face in the time it took for Sirius to blink.

Albus shook his head. "We shall talk about this later," he told Sirius as he whipped out his wand and conjured a stretcher. In the same movement he hovered Remus from Sirius's shoulder to the stretcher and began to glide smoothly down the hall.

Sirius ran after them. _I haven't finished with you!_

-oOo-

Ron was by Ginny's side before she had even touched the ground. She was motionless, her eyes flickering slowly beneath their lids. _NO! _his mind screeched.

He felt like his heart was about to explode with worry.

Before the rest of the team had even landed, Ron had his little sister in his arms and was sprinting up towards the hospital wing.

-oOo-

In a slightly shabby London flat, a woman with greasy white blond ringlets yawned and scratched at her stubbly legs. Her fluoro pink dressing gown was tied loosely around her too thin frame, and the fluffy pink lining was beginning to wear. Tufts were missing around the sleeves, and spots of ink were splattered all over it, mixing with most of the food stains. Dark bags were etched under her bloodshot eyes, and she'd lost one of her favourite dragon earrings.

Rita Skeeter had seen better days.

_That blasted little bucktoothed girl! She's ruined me!_ She seethed silently as she sat heavily at her kitchen table. The chair gave a squeak of protest. With a mumbled yawn she picked up her wand, wiped the peanut butter off it, and flicked it at her rusting kettle.

It immediately began to shriek and spurt steam. Rita twirled her wand in a small lazy circle and a chipped mug with 'I (heart) RITA SKEETA' painted on it whizzed towards the kettle which proceeded to pour itself. With another wave a teabag materialised and plonked itself inside. She didn't bother with milk; it was probably off.

Done, she hovered the mug over to herself and replaced her wand in the smear of peanut butter.

"Stupid little girl!" she muttered to herself, as she held her mug a tad too tightly. "Thinks she's amazingly smart, doesn't she!?" she spat before she sipped at her tea. She made a face as she tasted the too weak water. She'd already re-used the tea bag three times.

"Can't write for a year … that's all, she says … PAH! She's ruined me! No one will buy my articles! Nobody wants to read the words of RITA SKEETER!" Rita felt her lip begin to tremble … _Even Bozo won't talk to me,_ she thought as the quiver turned into full out bawls.

Her photographer hadn't talked to her in three months. She'd heard rumours that he'd joined another young reporter, Delilah Day, a bouncy-haired, bright-eyed vixen, who would jump and fetch for a ripe story … _I USED TO BE LIKE HER!_

Rita collapsed across her table top, knocking her weak tea over, and began to sob her heart out. A sudden tap at her window made her jump. She sat up, rubbing the peanut butter mixed with tears and tea from her cheek, and turned around to see a small owl pecking at the glass.

"Go away," she muttered, turning back to her tea, only to notice she was wearing it. More pitiful tears seeped from her eyes as she got to her feet angrily and flung the window open.

"WHAT IS IT!?" she screeched. The owl gave a doleful hoot before it dropped a scrap of parchment on her table. A second later it had swooped back outside and was gone.

"Stupid thing," she muttered as she picked the parchment up and opened it …

A small smile began to grow on her face as she read the words inside …

"_RITA SKEETER IS BACK IN TOWN!" _she crooned as she leapt into the air. She dropped the paper where it was as she dashed for her Quick Quotes Quill.

The paper fell face up on the tabletop and slowly began to soak up tea, but the words were still perfectly legible.

The first sentence had been underlined.

**Harry Potter Is Back. **

-oOo-

Harry was getting restless. True, he'd only been awake for two days. _It has been two, right?_ Harry couldn't stop the question from entering his head. He had no concept of time in the hospital wing, he never did. Usually he used his classes ... but he was banned from those. His watch had never worked since the second task, and then he had lost it at … Harry stopped his wandering thoughts again.

His point was, he wanted fresh air. He'd been in enclosed places for far too long; he didn't want to stay in them for any longer than he had to. The sudden thought of returning to his cupboard under the stairs sent shivers of horror up his spine. He wouldn't be able to handle that again. Ever.

"What month is it, Hermione?" Harry asked suddenly. Hermione jumped beside him, and the bed squeaked again.

"It's November. You got here on Halloween," she told him.

Harry felt a dry smirk fill his face as he lay back. "Irony," he muttered. Hermione chuckled as she agreed.

The hospital wing doors flew open with a bang, and Harry fell from his bed and bit back a yell of pain. He closed his eyes tightly as he struggled to get back to his feet, feeling newly healed cuts reopen on his knees and palms. Bruises screamed in protest and Harry felt his head spin.

Dully he heard Sirius's and Dumbledore's voices, but as he lay there the voices became clearer. He also realised Hermione was beside him, a gentle hand on his back.

"Harry? Are you okay?" she asked. He noticed her eyes kept darting towards a bed at the far end of the wing.

"Why are Sirius and Dumbledore here?" he asked as he struggled back to his feet. He winced and fell back down again. A fall wasn't something he'd needed. He felt like his side had been tenderised with a mallet. He tried again, and stopped again as another ripple of pain followed the movement. _A spiked mallet,_ he added dryly.

"Hermione?" he prompted as he lifted his sheet so he could see Sirius's and Dumbledore's feet.

"They had Remus with them," she said quietly. Harry dropped the sheet and turned back to her, his face pale.

"What?" he demanded.

Hermione's eyes where now glued to the other bed. "He looks awful, Harry…" she whispered.

"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked, once again trying to get up. This time he grabbed his sheet and tried to use that to pull himself up. The sheet untucked itself on the other side and Harry was sent careening back to the floor. He lay there for a moment, trying to breathe through the heady pain now thumping through his back as well.

"Hermione … could you please help me up," he asked as he screwed up his eyes. _Breathe through it,_ he instructed himself. It was something he'd learned to do during the past year.

"Oh! Yes, sorry. Wingardium Leviosa," Hermione intoned, and a second later Harry felt himself become weightless and float up and back onto the bed. As soon as he was there, he turned to look to Remus.

He was deathly pale beneath the vivid purple rash, and he was covered in sweat which had already made his salt and pepper hair slick against his skull.

"What do you think is wrong with him?" Harry asked quietly. He didn't know why, but he was whispering.

"Silver," Hermione said in a soft voice, her eyes widening.

"What?" Harry turned back to her to see the horror unmasked in her brown eyes.

"He's … Harry, werewolves are deathly allergic to silver!" she told him, tears in her voice. Harry knew this, but…

"How could he have gotten close enough for it to affect him like that? He would know he can't touch it!" Harry reasoned. His eyes began to get drawn back to his once-professor like a magnet.

"He may have ingested it … someone might have tried to poison him with liquid silver," Hermione murmured absentmindedly.

Dumbledore was already muttering spells, and Sirius looked torn between outrage and horror. The anger was defiantly directed at the Headmaster. Every few moments he would shoot the man a glare which could melt flesh from bone.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to appear from thin air. She rushed over to Lupin and began to cast her own spells before she rushed back off, only to return with an armful of potion vials and bottles.

Without even turning to them, Poppy called, "Hermione, take Harry somewhere else, somewhere he can lie down, mind. There is more Fraygen in the cupboard over there. Take two of them and dose him. I know you've been watching and that I can trust you. Now go. For once listen to me and do as I suggest!" Poppy ordered.

Hermione nodded and leapt nimbly to her feet as she went to the cupboard the Healer had indicated. She collected two of the purple flasks with unsteady fingers and came back to Harry's bed, slipping the potions into her school bag.

"Come on Harry. This is not going to be pretty. No one potion treatment or cure …" Hermione's voice had begun to tremble. Harry could tell she knew exactly what was happening inside Remus's body … and exactly what Madam Pomfrey had to do to help stop it.

"They have to purge the silver from his system … completely …" At her words Harry got the idea.

"Fine … I won't complain … but," Harry began.

Hermione's eyes snapped open and she scowled. "What?" she demanded, a tear escaping her eyes as Remus yelled. Harry felt his stomach plummet at the sound.

"Get him out of here now, Ms Granger!" Poppy yelled.

"I can't walk," he said between clenched teeth. Hermione's expression clouded over for a moment before she flicked her wand.

Harry looked down as his pyjamas transfigured before his eyes into a Gryffindor school uniform … or almost. He was wearing the black cloak, white shirt, black trousers, and grey vest, but the Hogwarts crest's embroidery was blurred and his red and gold tie was absent … as well as his shoes.

"That has got to do. Come here," Hermione said as she inspected her work quickly. She lent over and grasped his shoulders gently, dragging him from the bed until his feet touched the cold floor.

"Put your arm around my shoulders. You're going to have to hold most of your weight. If we want this to be inconspicuous, then you're going to **have** to walk," she told Harry, her eyes still on Remus. Harry nodded numbly.

He had a feeling that his energy before had sprung from the purple potion Poppy had forced down his throat. If this was how he _really_ felt … _I'm going to be in bed for months. _

"Come on," Hermione said as she stood, pulling Harry completely to his feet. His head spun for a second before his vision focused again.

"Where to?" he asked.

"The Come and Go Room," she said quietly.

Harry frowned. "Where?" he asked again. He was disgusted to realise he was on the edge of panting, and his breath was deep and thick. Hermione looked to him with an arched brow before her expression melted.

"Oh … you'll see," she said as she began to steer him from the room.

Harry felt his stomach knot as he realised she had forgotten he'd never been to this 'Come and Go Room' … a second later she had opened the hospital wing doors and was making her way towards the stairs.

Harry felt the familiarity of Hogwarts wash over him and bathe him with comfort. The old stone walls, the chipped stone floors, even the sky outside of the windows was just how he remembered it. And the noise, he could hear the babble of people talking … or was he imagining that?

Hermione froze in her tracks and shot a look at Harry.

"Do you want people to see you like this?" she asked, her voice brisk and to the point. _Apparently I'm not imagining it._

"Er-"

"Hesitation. I'm taking that as a no," Hermione said and before Harry could say another word a wand had tapped sharply on his head. It felt like she had just cracked an egg there, and the yolk was slowly dripping down his head, face, neck, shoulders … slowly the icy sensation had engulfed his whole body. Hermione put her wand back in her waist band quickly as she muttered from the side of her mouth. "Don't say anything, and try not to move."

Harry was confused. "What did you do to me?" he hissed as quietly as he could. Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't say a word. Before Harry could repeat his question Hermione shook her head.

Feet were approaching, and the babbling had increased into worried prattle. As Harry watched, the Gryffindor Quidditch team rose up the staircase. He felt a pang of grief mixed with excitement surge through his veins, but the feeling disappeared as soon as he saw who was in the centre of the cluster of crimson. Or, to be precise, who was being _carried_ in the centre of the crimson cluster.

"Ginny!" Harry gasped aloud. Hermione shouldered him gently, but she accidentally hit another of his numerous bruises and he couldn't contain a small yelp of pain.

-oOo-

With one small sound, Ginny felt her perfectly laid out plan shatter. _Dammit Harry! Why can't you stay where you're meant to!? _

Ginny was being bustled and jolted in her brother's arms. She knew he would probably want to kill her later, but Harry was his best friend, and whatever had happened between them had to be resolved. _Now._

Ginny opened her eyes and grinned up at Ron. He stopped in his tracks and looked down at her, blinking slowly.

"Ginny?" he asked slowly, crouching down and slowly laying her on the floor. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?" he asked quickly.

Ginny could see the worry plain in his eyes. She forced what she hoped was a woozy smile onto her face. "Yeah … musta' bumped my head … I think I was stunned," she lied. She was getting much better at lying. Usually she just began to babble, but now she could keep a straight face. But obviously she wasn't as good as she thought, for the concern slowly changed into suspicion on his freckled face.

"That crash didn't look like the sort of crash where you only 'bump your head'," he said. Ginny looked around at the rest of her team who were all crowded around her, various expressions of relief and suspicion written across there faces.

"Ummm …" _Needaquickexcuseneedaquickexcuse … "_Ow," Ginny said timidly, rubbing at her head. She smiled innocently around at everyone. "Er …" Ginny looked around for something to change the topic to, and actually found one.

"Hermione? What are you doing out here?" she asked. And just as she'd hoped everyone turned to the bushy-haired girl who had not left Harry's side since he'd arrived.

Ginny jumped to her feet and bolted. By the time everyone turned back to where she was, she was long gone.

-oOo-

Ron felt like a dagger had been plunged into his heart and twisted cruelly. Hermione looked beautiful, with her hair tumbling everywhere and her robes rumpled. But she looked like a rabbit caught in the beam of a wand, and she was standing strangely … like she was holding something heavy … the truth made Ron queasy. _So that was what that sound was,_ he realised, eyes darkening.

He turned back to his sister, only to find her gone. He closed his eyes slowly as he breathed deeply, holding his temper at bay. _She thinks she's doing what's best, _he reminded himself, but he still didn't open his eyes for a few long moments.

"Hermione!" Katie yelped.

"How's Harry?" she asked, and as if she had knocked over the first domino, the rest of the team burst, talking all at once.

"Is he alive?"

"I heard he was really messed up, is that true?"

"He looked awful on Halloween! Did he lose a limb?"

"Helena Dream told me she snuck into the hospital wing and saw him! She said he was covered with scars!"

"Is it true he cut off You-Know-Who's hand?"

"Yeah! I heard he got a hook!"

"I was told they had to cut off his legs!"

Ron grimaced as he looked away. They were all being idiots, believing rumours as outrageous as those.

Hermione looked like she was about to cry.

-oOo-

Hermione was finding it very hard not to laugh as she heard Harry snort.

"A hook?" he whispered, his amusement evident. His tiny voice was close to her ear, and his warm breath made her skin rise in pleasant goosebumps. "Like in Captain Hook? Dose that make me Peter Pan"

Hermione's resolve almost broke.

"Er … Harry's fine. He still has all his limbs, and for all I know, so does You-Know-Who … I-I have to go," she told them with a perfectly straight face. She turned as quickly as she could with Harry leaning against her, and began to hobble towards the seventh floor staircase. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise as someone's eyes bored into her back, but ignored them as best she could. She could hear Harry's laboured breath, and they hadn't even reached the stairs yet.

-oOo-

Ginny puffed as she sprinted down the stairs, her red robes billowing out behind her along with her hair. _That was close, _she realised as she skidded around a corner and hid against the cold wall. As she caught her breath, one thing was clear. She needed a new plan.

_(edited 25-Oct-2006 - td4)_


	19. xviii

**The Missing Boy**

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A/n: omg, this is the longest chapter yet! I finished typing the last 'bold headline' (a little cliffy just for you) and then looked at the page number. 12. THIS CHAPTER IS 12 PAGES LONG! dies 5235 words!

Disclaimer: Jk's world, I'm just living here.

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**Chapter Eighteen**

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It had been four days since Remus had been poisoned by silver, and Harry had had to leave the infirmary. And it had only been that day that Harry had finally convinced Hermione that he was well enough to be left alone for a moment.

She was up in the Owlery, watching the plain barn owl fly off, her order form clutched tightly in its talons. Hermione had been running about all day, catching up on everything she missed while she was with Harry. She didn't blame him of course, but her absence from all of her subjects had begun to give her nightmares. _I've missed so many classes! What if I've missed something important!?_ But the two thoughts that always followed the previous one were simple, and set her mind at ease. One, she'd missed the classes for good reason, and had spent the time with Harry, and two … Harry had missed far more.

Snapping back to her senses Hermione began to fumble through her bag. After a moment she took out a piece of torn parchment and her favourite self-inking quill, (Just lick the nib and off you go!). She bit her lip as she twirled the plume between her fingers, reading through her list:

'_Apologies to professors - ticked _

_Collect homework to finish - ticked_

_Collect new homework - ticked_

_Find books to help Harry catch up in school work - ticked_

_Collect more Fraygen from Madam Pomfrey - ticked_

_Send for Harry's gloves -' _

Smiling she licked the tip of her quill and ticked it off. Hermione tucked the quill behind her ear as she began to make her way down the stairs, the list still in hand, only five tasks unaccomplished.

'_Get scrapbook for Harry -_

_Find what I can of Harry's things -_

_Find a current newspaper -_

**_Research hypothesis!!! -_**

_TALK SOME SENSE INTO RONALD -'_

She frowned as she read her last two things to do. Her research would have to wait, however tempted she was to bury herself in a pile of books. She didn't have the time today, but as for Ronald …

"What has gotten into him?" Hermione muttered aloud.

"Who?"

Hermione squeaked and almost fell down the stairs, but before she could, someone's firm grip appeared around her forearm and stopped her fall.

"Thank you," she breathed, her breath still hitched in her chest. Her heart was thundering as the adrenaline continued to course through her veins. Hermione looked up and felt a genuine smile fill her face.

"Hey, Neville."

Over the past year Neville was one of the people who had changed noticeably, not only in the way he acted, but physically too. He had grown out of his … prolonged awkward stage, and was finally beginning to come into himself. Sure, his ears were still a little big, but his face (along with the rest of him) had lost all of its puppy fat and gained some muscle. He had shot up and was now one of the tallest in their year and was beginning to attract some attention from the opposite sex. (But of course he was clueless to it, but that just made him cuter).

After an accident in Potions where half of the class had needed new robes, his wand had been destroyed … it had been a few days after Harry's disappearance and Hermione knew that Neville had been almost as distracted as she had been. But some good had come from the situation, and it had come in the form of a new wand. The old one had been his father's, but it had never truly matched the bumbling boy. His new one had unlocked his potential, and suddenly he could cast spells which he had once deemed impossible to cast. Needless to say it had given him a much needed confidence boost, and from there he had grown even more: defending people from bullies, where once he had been the one who needed defending; acing a transfiguration test where only Hermione had gotten a higher score. He had even met Snape eye to eye.

But despite all the good, there was always some bad to go with it.

It had been a few months after Harry's kidnapping, but the night had produced a strong friendship and trust between them, something they had both needed. It had definitely been one of Neville's worst days, or worst 'nights' to be precise …

**Flash Back**

Hermione had had another nightmare, nothing different about that. Her night terrors were as frequent as her good marks, and she knew there was no chance she could just go back to sleep. She had her dressing robe draped around her and a thick book under her arm as she made her way down the staircase to the common room. There was something about the warm comfortable common room that always calmed her thoughts. It might have been all of the Gryffindor colours that decked its walls, or maybe the merry fire that always crackled in its hearth. But something about it always helped.

_It might be because it reminds you of him,_ a small voice piped up. Hermione pushed it back down quickly as tears bubbled up from her eyes again.

Just as she was about to step into her haven, a small sound caused her to pause. _Is that sobbing?_ She slowly peeked around the corner, and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dying embers' dim light.

When they did, Hermione felt her heart twist in her chest. Neville sat in Harry's favourite chair in front of the hearth, his brown eyes red with tears and his face contorted with grief … or maybe guilt?

She'd never really noticed that Harry's absence had affected other people - not like this at least, but they had been close and in her mind they had always been in the same boat ... both orphans, both with difficult pasts. Unforgivables had taken both of their parents, too.

Hermione noticedhe had something clutched tightly in his hands: sheer fabric. Its multi-coloured folds and shimmering surface didn't react to the light bathing it at all, and as Hermione watched Neville shifted, and his knees disappeared from view.

Harry's invisibility cloak.

Collecting her Gryffindor courage, Hermione stepped from the shadows and approached the distraught boy. As she drew closer she heard his shuddering breath calm, and saw his shaking shoulders still. His head remained bowed, but Hermione knew that he knew she was there.

"Neville? Are you okay?" As soon as the words slipped from her mouth she grimaced, _What a stupid question! And here I am the supposed 'smartest' in the year. _"Don't answer that," she added as she pulled another chair over to his and sat down.

There was a long moment of awkward silence before Neville spoke.

"You must think I'm -" his breath hitched again and Hermione saw his hands ball into fists around Harry's cloak. "- Th-that I'm …" he couldn't finish, and couldn't meet her eyes either.

Hermione leaned forward, her heart bleeding for him, and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"This will not make me think any less of you, Neville. You must have noticed my constant water works lately?" She had hoped to encourage a smile from him, but he only looked up at her, face red from tears, his expression absolutely blank of emotion. He looked like he was wearing a horrific mask.

"Hermione- I … He … Hermione, I should have …" His mask began to crack with his words, and Hermione saw his grief and guilt once again, but this time shining through his eyes.

Apprehension began to gnaw at her thoughts.

"What is it, Neville? You can tell me. And what I said before still stands. Nothing will make me think less of you. I promise," she told him, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

The boy who she had first met in first year, looking for his lost toad on the train was suddenly sitting back in front of her, where only yesterday she had seen his new form, his phoenix from the ashes, the one who was just beginning to realise his own budding prowess …

"Please?"

Suddenly his mask shattered. Horror, grief, and an overflowing tide of guilt flooded over his face as if with his mask a dam had broken. And then he started babbling almost as fast as his expression changed from fear, to anger, and then back to remorse.

"He-he-he told me everything, Hermione! His scar was hurting - I should have told someone. He-he was nervous, he knew … he knew … **_he_** was planning something - and then he started having nightmares, Hermione. He woke up screaming more than once; he started to cast silencing charms on his curtains - I found out one night and he made me promise - he made me promise, Hermione! I couldn't tell anyone! He made me promise - he knew that something was going to happen - he'd been training himself in secret - saying he had detention - but he was training. He-he-he trusted me, Hermione, and I'm telling you this! He made me promise to not tell you -or-or-or Ron. He didn't trust Ron not to tell. They'd-they-they'd been keeping it secret from you, Hermione, but they were growing apart - and … he trusted me … he trusted me … I should have told someone about his dreams, Hermione, and his scar! He knew this was going to happen - he suspected at least! And he … Hermione, me and him became really good friends. We told each other everything … He told me - he told me that Ginny liked him. He-he-he told me he liked someone else - someone he shouldn't like because she was … taken. That was-was-was one of the reasons Harry and Ron - fought. -He trusted me, Hermione - he even lent me his invisibility cloak so I could sneak into the seventh year greenhouse -" Neville broke off with a shuddering wheeze. Twisting the fabric between his hands he looked up at Hermione fully for the first time, his eyes locking with hers -

"He-" his resolve broke even further as more tears streamed down his face. "He- was … Hermione … he was going to the greenhouse to meet me that night."

Hermione's hand slipped from his arm as she stared at him in shock. Her head was in turmoil as thoughts spun faster and faster and then collided with each other, forming a new idea to think about. Harry and Ron _hadn't_ been best friends anymore? Harry and Neville had? Harry's scar had been hurting and he hadn't told them, he had been having dreams … And Neville had been keeping his promise with Harry for this long, even though it was eating away at him for months …

Hermione enveloped Neville in a rib-breaking hug.

"Neville, Harry would have been proud of you keeping his secrets, but he would have kicked your arse had he known they had been affecting you like this. You know how he is, everyone else before himself," she told him as she buried her face in his shoulder. He was shaking beneath her hands and she barely heard his whispered words.

"Don't you mean 'was'?"

Hermione held him at arm's length.

"No. I mean IS. Harry IS coming back, Neville. He's coming back and he's going to be fine. You'll be able to give him his invisibility cloak back, but until he gets back you have to keep it safe for him," she told him firmly.

Neville nodded, and slowly a smile formed on his trembling lips.

"I know why he likes you," he told her, holding the cloak tightly.

**End Flashback**

Hermione snapped back to the present as Neville waved his hand in front of her face.

"Hello? Hermione? Anyone at home in that big brain of yours?" he teased.

"What? Oh, sorry Neville, just a bit preoccupied lately," she told him. He nodded, his smile sobering slightly as anxiousness entered his eyes.

"How is he? I've been looking for you."

Hermione grinned and hugged him tightly.

"He's fine! He's walking about, grumbling about not being allowed to go out to the Quidditch pitch, and grimacing as he takes his potion. He's back, Neville, he's really here," she told him as they broke apart. Neville grinned and began to scrounge though his bag.

"Can you give him this for me? Tell him it was really useful and thank you," he said as he handed her Harry's cloak. Hermione shook her head and handed it back to him, trying to keep a straight face as Neville's face dropped.

"Why?" he asked, his tone forlorn.

"Tell him yourself," she told him with a smirk.

His eyes widened as his jaw dropped.

"You mean I'm allowed -"

"No, but that's not going to stop me, and it shouldn't stop you either," Hermione said as she hoisted her bag further up her shoulder. Her books were quite heavy, but she was used to that.

"Can we go there now? Where are they keeping him?" Neville asked at once, practically bouncing on his feet. Hermione laughed and started down the stairs again.

"I just need to pop back to the Tower before we see him. I want to get a few things for him. Did you get today's paper by any chance?" she asked, looking at her list. Neville nodded.

"Yeah, but I've avoided reading the Prophet for awhile now … never wanted to find out the worst had happened … if you know what I mean," he muttered as he reached into his bag and held out the paper for her. Smiling, Hermione took it and put it in her own bag before ticking that off her list as well.

Seeing this, Neville smirked.

"Oh! The organisation! It burns," he teased as he pretended to flinch away. Hermione swatted him.

"Watch it, or I'll get an organiser for you too," she threatened, and Neville immediately shut up, having heard about these 'horrible' books from Harry and Ron.

**-oOo-**

Despite everything, Harry was completely, and utterly BOREDSure, he was worried sick about Professor Lupin, but he couldn't do anything about that. He was finally beginning to feel better. He could walk around without getting tired, and (when Hermione wasn't looking) he could even manage a few exercises like push-ups and sit-ups. Of course, he still couldn't stomach any food, and had to get his 'nutrients' and things from the Fraygen that Hermione was forcing down his throat each day and night. But apart from that, Harry was feeling like his old self. He wanted to go back to classes; he'd been surprised how much he'd missed them all … even Potions. He wanted to see all of his friends, but most of all, he wanted to go outside … and play Quidditch.

He's been stuck in the There and Gone Room for four bloody days and it was definitely getting old.

There were only so many times you could get it to transform into a modern Muggle basketball court just as your studious friend was about to sit down.

_Maybe I shouldn't have talked Hermione into leaving … at least when she's here I have something to do._

A small smile filled his face. He'd been having fun hovering random objects into her hair and making them get tangled there … sure, it was a bit immature, but Harry couldn't stop himself.

Harry's grasp over wandless magic was developing in leaps and bounds. He could now make things hover without thinking, change the colour of anything he pleased, (Hermione's hair was a fun target) and he was beginning to transfigure things (mainly quills, just as a certain young woman was about to pick one up).

But because his main entertainment was missing, Harry was sitting on the window seat he had asked the room to make for him. He was sure the strange magical room was on the other side of the castle, but from his seat he could see the Quidditch pitch.

He'd been looking at it all day feeling mixtures of envy and regret as he watched the first years have their flying lessons. Just as he was about to get up and do something else, he noticed someone else walk onto the pitch. He sat back down as he squinted at the figure, and smiled as he realised it was topped with shocking red hair.

It was Ron Weasley.

Despite their fall out last year, Harry had missed him. He wanted to make up with the boy he had once considered his 'best friend'. _But I'm not going to go out with Ginny if that's what it takes,_ he thought stubbornly.

Harry watched as Ron mounted his broom and shot into the air, startling half of the first years into losing altitude.

Ron began to circle the pitch faster and faster with each circuit. It was obvious to Harry that the redhead was lost in thought and was 'flying' his frustration off. Harry had done it a few times during his fifth year after their rows. Harry got up and walked away quickly. As soon as he got up the window seat sunk back into the wall.

As if to spite him he realised his hands were trembling slightly. He glared at his scarred palms and shoved them in his pockets in disgust. But as he did so he made himself a promise.

_I'm going to fly. I don't care what everyone says. I'm going to go flying._

Harry looked around the room with jaded eyes, trying to push the thought of flying from his head. He'd already read half of the books in the bookshelf (even if turning the pages had become a challenge), and playing chess by yourself wasn't exactly thrilling. Gobstones were out of the question; he couldn't hold anything so small. And even though Hermione had encouraged him to listen to the Wizarding Wireless, he didn't want to hear what people were saying about him … _Do they even know I'm back? I hope not …_

"Harry?"

Harry jumped, having not noticed the door opening and Hermione stepping inside. She smiled at him and Harry smiled back, truly glad that she had returned.

"Did you do everything you wanted to?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too happy she was back. He went forward and took the bag overflowing with books from her shoulder. He didn't notice her blush at the action.

"Yeah, almost everything. The Professors were really understanding," she told him, but at the tone of her voice Harry knew she had something else to say.

"And?" he prompted as he placed the bag on the table that had appeared.

Hermione beamed and went back to the door.

"You can come in now," she said, shooting Harry another heart-warming smile.

"Hermione, I thought you said no one was allowed to know I was here -" His voice trailed off as a very different Neville Longbottom stepped into the room.

"HARRY!" he exclaimed, his beaming smile threatening to break his face in two. Harry felt something hot prickle at the corners of his eyes but closed them quickly._ Men don't cry,_ he reminded himself quickly, but he didn't trust his voice. He hadn't realised just how much he had missed Neville, up to his … up till … _before -­_ Neville had been the only one he had felt like he could tell anything.

When he opened his eyes Neville was running towards him, and before Harry could say a word he engulfed him in a massive bear hug. For a moment he stayed stiff in the embrace but slowly he hugged his friend back … it was a very_ manly_ hug.

Slowly Neville broke away, whipping something from his eye. Harry found himself doing the same.

"I missed you, mate," Neville told him, shifting uncomfortably.

"Yeah … I … missed you, too," Harry returned slowly.

"Oh, you two!" Hermione gushed, and as one the two males turned to her to see she was smiling through tears.

**-oOo-**

Half an hour later the three of them were sitting around a small coffee table on a very large, very comfortable red couch the room had provided for them. They'd been talking animatedly with each other about everything and anything, but had wordlessly decided to keep the subject away from Harry's Ordeal.

In a small lapse in conversation Neville began to rummage through his bag.

"I … uh … have something for you," he said as he held out a bundle of familiar fabric to Harry.

Harry looked at the shimmering material for a moment before he realised what it was. Once again he felt his eyes burn.

_Dad's cloak … how could I have forgotten …_

"Th-thank you, Neville," he murmured thickly, holding the fabric close. Neville smiled softly.

"I knew you'd want it back."

Harry couldn't stop himself giving Neville another –_manly_- hug.

"Oh! Harry, I got these for you, I just remembered," Hermione said as she went over to her bag and brought back a pile of books and a shrunken trunk.

"Is that mine?" Harry asked slowly, trying to keep his hopes from rising. He'd wanted to look at all of his old things, one thing in particular … but even Vernon's old manky socks would be a sight for sore eyes.

Hermione's smile was answer enough.

She drew her wand and unshrunk the big trunk after placing it at her feet. As soon as it had resumed normal size Harry dived on it, threw it open, and gazed at all of the things he'd thought he wouldn't see again.

Hermione and Neville sat back as Harry began to go through everything, threw robes over his shoulder and other random pieces of parchment and quills.

"We - and when I say 'we' I mean our dorm, left it for you. I found -" he shot a look at Hermione, "- **_someone_** going through it one day and told them off. I had to threaten them with telling McGonagall before they'd put your shirt back in," he told Harry, who gave a small chuckle without looking up from his search.

Making sure Harry wouldn't notice, Hermione elbowed Neville sharply in the ribs, shooting him a glare as he winced.

"I missed him, okay?!" she mouthed.

"Yeah, yeah," Neville soundlessly shot back as he rolled his eyes. Hermione made a face as she crossed her arms across her chest. She hadn't told him she'd gone back later and retrieved the shirt anyway.

Harry suddenly sat up, a large brown leather book in his hands, a massive smile plastered on his face. Hermione frowned, having never seen the book before. She turned to Neville and saw a similar expression on his face. But before Hermione could ask about it, Harry came over and sat between them.

"Look," he said as he opened the book and began leafing through the pages. Hermione felt a soft smile form on her face as she watched Harry's face. A photo album … he'd been looking for a photo album. _If I wasn't already in love with him, I think I'd have fallen for him again, _she thought. Most boys would probably go straight to their brooms, _And I'm sure Harry will get to that_, but her Harry went straight to his photo album, filled with pictures of his family.

A small chuckle startled her from her thoughts and she looked past Harry to Neville.

"What?" she demanded, hoping the blush she knew was on her cheeks wasn't. Neville shrugged with a smirk.

"Nothing," he said, his expression saying otherwise.

_Nothing, my ass, _she thought with another glare.

Harry hadn't seemed to notice.

"Look, it's my parents' wedding," Harry said, pointing to the picture. Hermione looked at the photo, and for a moment she saw herself standing beside Harry, alight with happiness, instead of Lily beside James …

Harry hesitantly turned the page. He slowly flipped through the rest of the book until he got to the back, where new photos had claimed their space.

"Colin's been busy, hasn't he?" Neville asked with a grin as he looked at his classmates. One of the photos had been taken after one of Gryffindor's many spectacular wins on the pitch. The scarlet room was bustling with people, all singing silently, and laughing, cheering and holding the team on their shoulders. Another was of the Trio sitting beside the lake, Hermione reading, Harry laying back and looking up at the sky, and Ron stuffing his face full of cauldron cakes.

"Captured us well, didn't he?" Hermione asked with a grin.

Harry's smile hadn't wavered. He turned the page. Again there was Neville, albeit a younger Neville, but still the boy they all knew. He was standing there, Trevor on his shoulder, beaming as he held up a Herbology paper he had aced.

"I remember that," the boy -or young man- realised. "I thought it was such an achievement. I think it was the best marks I've ever gotten."

Harry finally tore his eyes from the page.

"Bull," he stated. "Ever since first year you've aced every one of your Herbology tests," he reminded him.

Neville shook his head, pointing at the picture. "But this test was about Potion ingredients," he said, looking smug.

**-oOo-**

After the photo album had finally been put away (Neville had practically had to tear it away from Harry's hands, a fact that amazed Hermione considering the state his hands were in), Hermione had taken out the other things from her bag: four books to help Harry catch up (these Harry put to the side quickly), another few flasks of Fraygen, the scrap book she'd made (Harry had said he'd look at it tomorrow, not wanting to ruin the good mood the photos had produced), and finally the newspaper.

Hermione had sat down and opened straight to the obituary page. With the war going on, she always checked through it first. She didn't notice Neville and Harry go off and talk.

"I … Harry … I told," Neville said quietly. Harry frowned slightly.

"Told what?" he asked.

"Hermione … about your scar … and your dreams. You'd been gone for two months! It was eating away at me … and plus the fact that … that … you were coming out to meet me that night … I couldn't stand it, Harry. It … it was killing me being the only one who knew." He met Harry's eyes, and Harry was surprised to see they were glistening.

"If I hadn't asked you to meet me, you wouldn't have been taken," Neville almost whispered.

"It was not your fault. I know that look, and it was not your fault at all! Don't worry about Hermione. She would have figured it out eventually anyway. But don't you dare blame yourself about … me," Harry told him, shaking his shoulder slightly to enforce the point.

As Harry watched, Neville's shoulders straightened as if a massive weight had been removed, and he guessed that one had.

"What were you going to show me anyway, Neville?" Harry asked. That whole night was a blur for him. All he remembered was leaving, his scar prickling as it had started to do constantly, to go and meet Neville … and then … had there been someone in school robes? He remembered blue … or had they been grey? No, blue eyes sneering at him …

He shook the thoughts aside as Neville laughed.

"Alihotsy."

Harry arched a brow.

"Er ... gesundheit?"

Neville laughed.

"No, Alihotsy. It's a rare flower I found in the seventh year greenhouse. It causes hysteria when consumed … but … er … it seems kind of stupid now. But I was so excited about finding it there … and recognising it, too! None of the plants are labelled in there, because in seventh year you're expected to know. It's fascinating, and the Alihotsy is …" he trailed off, grinning self-consciously. "Never mind, I'm babbling again … I've found I start doing that whenever Herbology is mentioned," he added, a blush staining his cheeks.

Harry laughed.

"Don't worry … actually, would you be able to help me catch up to where I'm supposed to be at in Herbology?" Harry asked, hoping his friend would say yes.

Neville nodded enthusiastically,

"That would be great! I'd love to. And then we can talk about -" he dropped his voice so Harry almost couldn't hear "- a certain someone who you once deemed 'taken' in your fifth year."

Harry felt himself blush and couldn't help but look over at Hermione who was still reading the Prophet.

"Um … yeah … maybe … that -er- would be -er- good?" Harry stuttered, running his hand though his hair.

Neville chuckled.

"Wow, you have got it bad." And then he lowered his voice even more. "Harry and Hermione, sittin' in a tree, K I S S I N G -"

Harry glared at him, his face heating up.

"If I had a wand, you would not be standing right now, let alone breathing," he hissed.

Neville shrugged.

"Good thing you haven't got wand then, isn't it? It's probably best you got a new one anyway, with its core and all," he said.

Harry gaped.

"How the hell do you know about that?!" Harry demanded, feeling his heart begin to race in his chest and panic flood his veins.

"Oh … Harry … Dumbledore talked to me while you were … gone. Have you … er … do you know about the … Prophecy?"

Harry started to shake his head when slowly he realised that he did. His eyes widened, and he felt his breath grow shallow. _How the hell do I know this?! It couldn't be the same … No … oh no …_

"Er … Neville? This … prophecy wouldn't happen to mention … er … something about … someone being born as the … seventh month dies?" he asked slowly. Neville nodded and Harry's vision began to tunnel in and he sat down quickly.

"Why did Dumbledore tell you about it? I know that … it could have been you … but he … chose me …" Harry said slowly, his head in his hands as he went over the rhyme in his head.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …_

Neville sat beside him, shooting him a worried glance.

"Well, Dumbledore was worried that … well, that you wouldn't come back, and he hoped that I could … I think he wanted me to take your place. I apparently match up to at least some of the criteria, if not **_him_** choosing me. He's been training me. That's why I'm getting better at magic, that and my new wand. Please don't tell Hermione. This is one thing I haven't told her."

Harry's head was swimming.

"Of course not. I wouldn't have told her either …" Harry muttered. Neville frowned.

"Harry, you sound like …" his eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Did you learn the prophecy while you were … away?" he asked slowly.

Harry shook his head 'no'. _No, I learnt it in a dream … HOW THE HELL IS THAT POSSIBLE!? -wait._

Harry sat up with a start, making his head spin even more but ignoring it. "Did you say that Dumbledore didn't think I was coming back?" he demanded, his tone harsher than he meant it to be.

"I-I-I … I don't think he did, Harry …" Neville stuttered. For a moment he had felt like the air around him had been super-charged … charged to explode…

Harry jumped to his feet and began to pace.

_He didn't think I was coming back? I've gotten out of things like this before. Why didn't he think I was coming back? I thought he of all people would have faith in me!_

Things began to tremble around him, a book fell from its shelf, a cup began to rattle across the table, and a crack appeared in the glass of the window - but before anything could all out explode Hermione gasped. Harry's surging emotions died back down in an instant, and he turned to her, worry plain in his emerald eyes.

"What, Hermione?" he asked quickly.

She slowly looked up from her paper; she hadn't noticed Harry's loss of control.

"I think you should read this," she said, holding up the paper.

"What is it?" he demanded, nervousness pooling in his stomach as he went over and sat beside her.

The headline was bold and clear.

_**HARRY POTTER IS BACK!**_

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**__**

This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful, marvellous, Editrix the Dreamer 4 ((Anyone who hasn't read her stories MUST).

Every chapter has now been edited! That is why the Chapter titles are now in Roman Numerals and all of the author notes are gone. But I'm still going to have them. Eventually I'm going to give the chapters REAL titles, but at the moment they stay roman. I am sooo sorry I haven't updated in so long, I'm going to TRY to fix that, but can't make any promises because of school.

((If anyone out their likes to pick up a piece of paper, pencil and draw, I would LOVE any fan art that may occur! I would be eternally grateful for it!)).

I really hope you all like it! PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.

Mali

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_(edited 24-Jan-2007 - td4)_

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	20. XiX

A/N: i'm so sorry its taken me so long to update, but two reviewers finally pushed me over the edge and here is the result. An unedited chapter for you all! please ignore the mistakes, as soon as i receive an edited version i'll repost it-but in the mean time-have a chew on this yay i'm updating! 

This chapter is dedicated to I Collect Bananas //i'll hold you to that fanart ; ) //, Rouge7 (your kind words out of the blue inspired me ), and the Dreamer4 (i hope you feel better soon!)

Disclaimer: once again, JK's world, i'm just living here.

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**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Nineteen**

**

* * *

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**Harry Potter Is Back!**

Harry arched a brow at the headline and looked up at Hermione's pale face.

"And?" he asked. This was no big news, for him at least. He'd known his presence wouldn't go unnoticed for long; in fact, he was surprised it taken as long as it had.

Hermione shook her head and pointed at the smaller headline further down the page.

Harry's face grew as pale as Hermione's as he fell into the couch beside her, face blank.

"Bloody hell" he groaned.

"What?! Who died!?" Neville demanded as he snatched the paper from Harry's slack fingers. Harry watched numbly as Neville's brow knotted and then popped with surprise.

"Wow…okay, this I didn't expect" He muttered as he read

_Harry Potter Receives Order of Merlin First Class for his Bravery and Moral Fiber!_

"Bit of a mouthful isn't it?" he joked, but neither Harry nor Hermione where in the mood to laugh.

Harry shook his head as he got back to his feet.

"I can't get an Order of Merlin! I didn't do anything!" he exclaimed, running his shaking hands though his hair, making it stand up even more, as he started pacing.

"Harry, just the fact that you're standing here nulls your last statement" Hermione had recovered her voice…But Harry knew something serious was on her mind for her to bring out the 'eloquent' words. She only ever spoke like that when her thoughts were else where. But for once he couldn't focus on her for very long. Harry hated to admit it, but she was right…_like always._

_I can't get an order of Merlin…_ the idea made him nauseous. But beside the fact that he felt he didn't deserve one, the real reason gnawed at his gut. There where quite a few reasons in fact…and they where all etched across his face.

"Yeah Harry. You bloody survived being You Know Who's prisoner for a whole year!-"

Neville didn't notice Harry's face drop or his pacing slow, but Hermione did. Immediately her racing thoughts snapped back to the present and she ran her fingers across her throat at Neville, begging for him to shut up. But he hadn't noticed Hermione's movements either.

"-I mean, Harry, most people don't last a day with _him,_ But you did. _And_ you're Harry Potter! He wants you dead more then anyone! But you're here and-"

"I'm only alive because he wanted to draw it out"

Harry's voice was so soft the two other Gryffindor's almost didn't hear him.

Finally Neville noticed Hermione hardened glare and realized his mistake.

"Harry I-"

"Forget it"

Harry had turned his back to them and was staring at the window.

_I don't want to think of that now…not ever…_ for a moment he felt the stone walls of the room squeeze in, for a moment the smell of decay filled his senses and made his head reel, the room was plunged into darkness and the summer/spring? Warmth disappeared, replaced with a dull chill that bit him to the bone.

But only for a moment. Harry forced the memory form his mind and focused instead at his new hurdle. _A bloody order of Merlin…not what I need right now…And why am I even learning this from a bloody news paper! Aren't they meant to owl me about these kind of things?!_

No sooner had he thought it, he realized that the sky outside the window wasn't as clear as it had been before. It was stormy with owls of every colour and breed, all clutching letters, packages, and scrolls in their claws. They where reeling and hooting, battling for space as they raced towards the castle…

"_Oh Merlin"_ he whispered, they weren't heading for just the castle…no, they were heading straight for **his **window.

Harry leapt forward and began to fumble with the windows clasp, sweat beading on his brow as his eyes skitted up to the on coming tide of feathers every few moments. But his hands were shaking to much, his fingers where too numb, his grip to lazy-

A moment later the window burst open, and Harry was thrown to the floor, for once creating new bruises instead of worsening old ones. Hundreds of owls flooded the room in an instant. They fought for dominance as they battled to deliver their letter first, claws where everywhere, the air was thick with shrill hoots and frantically flapping wings-feathers had already lodged permanently into Harry's bird nest of hair.

Through the birds frenzied sounds he could hear Hermione screeching and Neville yelling as no doubt owls clawed past them and more feathers and -worse things- coated them thickly.

"You horrible-"

"-Geoff!-"

"Leave that alone!-"

"-Yuck!"

"GET OFF THAT BOOK!-"

Harry almost sniggered as he saw Hermione though the flurry of feathers, hugging a pile of books to her chest protectively as an owl pulled at a lock of her hair. But to snigger evolved opening his mouth and Harry wasn't going to risk that.

"THIS IS RIDICULOUS!" Hermione yelled, and Harry had to agree. Suddenly an idea flew into his head, _in second year Hermione froze all of those Cornish pixies hadn't she? Why can't I now?!_

He lifted his hand up and focused on his magic, the magic he knew was still there, coating his body like a shield, constantly renewing and flowing from his core…just waiting to be used, to be channeled- Harry's smile deflated as he realized he had a small problem. He couldn't remember the incantation.

Harry felt the wall around his tightly reined temper crumple to dust in an instant.

_BLOODY HELL!_ _I HATE THIS! WHY DID I HAVE TO MISS A WHOLE YEAR?! WHY DO I HAVE TO DEFEND MYSELF FROM RUDDY OWLS!? __**OWLS!- O.W.L.**_** WHY DID I HAVE TO MISS THAT? WHY CAN'T I HAVE JUST GROWN UP LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE? FAMILY? HOME? IS THAT TOO MUCH? WHY COULDN'T I JUST HAVE TO USE A WAND LIKE EVERYONE ELSE? WHY CAN'T I JUST LIVE WITH MY GODFATHER IN THE COUNTRY?! JUST WORRY ABOUT MY FAMILY LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE? EH?! NO **_**I**_** HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE WHOLE. BLOODY. WIZARDING. WOLRD!**_**WHY THE HELL CAN'T I BE NORMAL!?**_

The magic Harry could now always feel around him flared, he felt the air crackle around him as his clothes became static and his hair stood on end. As quickly as the wall had crumpled Harry rebuilt it and pulled his anger back in, shutting it away-_control. I need control_ Harry told himself softly; he felt the energy around him slowly recide, but before it could go back completely Harry held his hand back out.

_Freeze._

The owls all froze mid flap-mid hoot, screech and claw. The sudden silence was broken only by the three sixteen year old's breath and a single owl's indignant hoot.

Harry groaned and let his head fall back to the ground with a thud. _It's always me isn't it? I'm the one who's always different. Oh, _**no one**_ can survive the killing curse! Of course not! Oh, _**no one**_ can control wandless magic so completely so young! Oh of course not…bah. _

"Harry?!"Hermione called, her voice tinged with worry as she ran to him and knelt beside him. Harry opened one eye

"I'm fine. Absolutely dandy…"_apart form the fact that I just got attacked but ruddy OWLS,_ Harry reassured her before she could ask. Hermione sat back on her heels, a stubborn frown on her face.

"There are about two hundred Owls in here Harry. You froze them all in a second. Are you sure your fine? Are you dizzy at all? Light headed?" she whispered as she put her hand on his head.

Harry fought a smile from his face from both her concern and smooth palm against his brow.

"If you two love birds are finished, I'd LOVE to know who froze these feather dusters" Neville interrupted, gesturing up at a random bird.

Harry sat up quickly and pulled away from Hermione, feeling his face heat up. He shot Neville a glare before looking back at Hermione for a moment. Even with feathers in her unruly hair and her cheeks pink with effort she looked beautiful.

"I froze them Neville" Hermione told him in her 'isn't that obvious?' tone. Harry was suddenly proud at how well Hermione could lie.

Neville returned an accomplished 'do you think I'm an idiot?' arched brow.

"You didn't touch your wand Hermione. And I've noticed Harry doesn't have his"

Hermione turned back to him to retort but no witty reply came from her mouth.

"It's the room. It's strange, you want something and it appears, it must have known we wanted the owls to stop" Harry was surprised at his own words…they actually made sense. Hermione looked back at Harry and he saw pride in her eyes. His stomach tingled warmly.

Neville shot them both another 'I'm watching you' look before accepting Harry's answer.

Hermione helped Harry to his feet and they looked around. Feathers where EVERYWHERE… along with other unmentionables.

"Well…you two have fun cleaning this up!" Neville said cheerfully as he began to move towards the door, but before he could Hermione drew her wand and his legs snapped together.

"Oh no. Your helping us with the clean up AND the fan mail."

Harry cringed at the words.

Neville began muttering under his breath as he turned around and began to hop towards them, he stopped halfway and almost fell but caught himself on the arm of the coutch just in time.

"This room sucks at Freezing charms" Neville told them, Harry bristled and Hermione chuckled silently at his expression.

"Whys that?" she asked. Neville blew a clump of hair from his eyes before pointing at one of the birds.

"It missed one"

Harry looked up and sure enough one Owl was flapping its wings sluggishly, as if it was slipping though his spell; shrugging it off like a heavy coat.

The owl broke free from the no longer turbulent crown and swooped down to Harry. Its big tawny wings looked regal along did its yellow eyes and ribbon tied scroll. As it landed on his shoulder Harry noticed that it had a small medal around its neck on a matching red ribbon. The medallion had a stylized 'O of M' engraved into its gold surface. _Three guesses what that stands for,_ he thought dryly.

Harry glared at the big owl, the internal wall cracking slightly once again.

"Just deliver your letter and go" he snapped, the owl looked down at him both literally and figuratively…_cocky thing aren't you?_ The owl gave another doleful hoot before holding out its claw.

Harry took the scroll, and as soon as his hand touched it golden sparks ignited and the ribbon burned away. The ashes of the ribbon began to fall but stopped in mid air, before rising back up and forming ten words in golden motes.

_Harry James Potter, To receive Order of Merlin First Class_

"A security spell. It's been keyed to your magic Harry. If Neville or I had taken it…I wonder how they cast that? Is the parchment touch sensitive? Or maybe it was the ribbon" Hermione began to mutter, eyes alight. Harry had to hide his smile, her eyes always gleamed when she found something she didn't already understand completely.

"Are you going to read it?" Neville asked quietly, pulling feathers from his hair. Harry looked up at him, mulling the question around his head. Did he want to read it?

"You're going to have to eventually" he added. Harry looked down at the scroll, his stomach suddenly churning again. The fact that he was being 'rewarded' for being maimed was sickening.

He finally looked up,

"No I don't" he said as he handed it over to him. Before Neville could say another word Harry turned back to Hermione and helped her too her feet-only for her to fall back to the floor in his lax grip.

"Sorry" Harry mumbled, but Hermione shook her head, getting to her feet herself.

"Its fine Harry" she reassured him.

"Harry, this is an order of Merlin. You have to read the letter" Neville told him, shaking the letter in front of his face. Harry averted his eyes

"If they're serious enough they can send another owl. I don't want a bloody medal for being away. It's probably just some big publicity stunt anyway" he muttered, looking around at all of the motionless birds. Hermione gave him a look before reaching up for an owl and relieving it of its letter.

"Oh look Harry. It's from your 'number one fan'" she teased, showing him the return address with a grin.

"And you're still going to have to read that letter"

"No, I'm not" Harry muttered, pulling a feather from his own hair. As he watched his two friends rolled their eyes, their expression a matching set of determination.

"Your not going to let this go are you?" he asked dryly.

"What do you think?" Neville asked, Hermione's expression didn't need to be verbalized, her eyes where far too expressive, as was that arched brow and quirked mouth.

Harry groaned, it was going to be a long day.

-oOo-

Together, the three of them managed to wrestle all of the owls from the room, and extract all of the letters. Many of them were filled with gushing apologies and mushy love notes which Neville took much joy in coping quietly for later blackmail.

Some where just a tad to graphic in their descriptions of just _how_ they wanted to thank the Boy Who Lived. These Hermione burnt before Harry could read, her face sour and cheeks flushed. Neville was covered in pink confetti from one envelope sealed with a kiss. And a few where filled with insults.

"You'd think they could make up their minds hey?" Neville commented as he placed another in the growing pile of read mail before them.

Hermione made a small disapproving sound in the back of her throat as she burnt another letter. Harry eyed the ashes suspiciously.

"Why do you keep doing that?" he asked

Hermione looked up at him, her sour expression still in place.

"No reason" she said stiffly.

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Squeeeeeeeeee. Chapter nineteen! an update in general! i can't believe i left updating for so long. i'm sorry, please forgive me. i hope you like! my wonderful, wonderful readers!

Review please-feed back is the mother of inspiration!

Mali 


	21. xx

_Disclaimer: Jks World, i'm just living here_

_A/n:-holy cow!- Oo 8000 words! and i've actually reached chapter 20! longest chapter yet- Also, this chapter isn't fully edited yet-my wonderful Editrix is still feeling unwell so this will do for the time being. i hope ya all still enjoy!_

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Twenty**

A week had passed since the Owl Fiasco, and Harry was still as determined as ever to get out of the castle. Every day he looked out the window his resolve grew. And every time he saw Ron on the pitch-soaring round and round (a habit he'd been doing more and more often) Harry knew he had to fly soon, or he'd go insane.

It was almost a physical ache. He _HAD_ to go outside.

The only difference was he was now desperate enough to resort to escape plans.

Harry was sure that if Hermione or Neville could see inside his head they'd disapprove. He'd think about normal things, he could laugh and talk and do everything that they expected of him. But somehow his thoughts always came back to his new grip on wandless magic and what he could do with it. Or more precisely, the pain he planned to inflict with it.

He'd woken up with a grin on his face after he dreamed of torturing Lucius Malfoy. The mans agonized screams where still ringing in his ears as he lay there…beaming. The fact half disturbed him, but he couldn't stop. He wanted to make the senior Malfoy pay. It was he who carried out the majority of the atrocities that had befallen Harry. It was he who smirked as he asked the same questions again and again.

What is the prophecy?

Where is the order of the phoenix?

When do you plan to give in?

…

Harry had spent the rest of his sleepless night coming up with his own questions to ask. The next morning Hermione had inquired why he was in such a good mood…

No, he didn't plan to talk about his 'mental health' with anyone soon. 'Cause Harry was pretty sure he was going crazy…but if it gave him another incentive to get revenge? Well, he wasn't going to complain.

Though he wasn't sure what was going to happen to Malfoy junior if he saw him any time soon… had the resemblance between the two changed since he'd been gone?

Well, at least he was looking much better physically, the Fraygen was going it job well. He was no longer the skeletal looking boy Hermione had nightmares about. He had gained the much needed weight, just a few more pounds and he'd look perfectly healthy.

The scars on the other hand…well, Harry just had to get used to those.

Madam Pomfrey had been coming to the room each afternoon to apply spells and creams to the abused skin, but nothing seemed to be working- they where just as angry and red as when they had first tried to heal.

He'd grimaced when he'd finally stopped kidding himself. He'd look like a mini Mad Eye without the eye.

Harry sniggered; here he was, thinking he was probably going insane, while casually coming to terms with the fact that he'd be scared physically for life.

Harry slumped to his side on the couch, laughing hysterically as Hermione gave him a bemused smile.

Overall though, Harry was still quite pleased. He could always use glamours right?

He ignored his broken hands completely-so they couldn't bother him either.

-oOo-

Neville was so relieved.

He'd cried that first night, not that he'd ever tell anyone. After he'd helped Harry open his mail and returned his cloak, he'd gone back to his dorm completely numb, and sobbed himself to sleep.

Merlin-Harry was back! He was alive! Neville hadn't _KILLED _HIM!

There were no words to describe just how grateful he was of that fact, that he hadn't killed his best - perhaps _only_ friend. Harry had been laughing and talking, he'd been blushing around Hermione, nervous hands wringing at his shirt every time she smiled, he wined about not being allowed to play Quiddich, he'd said how he missed classes and his other friends. He'd almost been back to normal but for those few moments his eyes had gone dull…but…

Harry was back…he hadn't killed him…even if it had been his fault-he hadn't _killed_ him!

Neville had cried.

But the scars.

They were all over his face-he didn't want to know about the rest of his friends' body- just his face and arms had been enough to make him want to cringe away. He was amazed he'd been able to stop himself from stepping back from Harry in shock-that he'd been able to hug him without flinching. He was lucky really, that his gratitude of Harry being alive had out weighed his horror.

But Merlin…every time he closed his eyes he saw them.

Red and raw, riddled all over Harry's face. Running through his eyebrow and marring his cheeks. One huge gash had run so close to his right eye that the skin puckered and pulled whenever he blinked. A tiny chunk had been taken from his nose-another mottled scar had run across the bridge of it-a horizontal slash that had run under his eyes as well. The back of his arms where crisscrossed, even his neck was covered …

When Neville had seen his hands, he'd had to blink twice before he found unblemished skin under the hundreds of tiny scrapes and raised marks.

All throughout their conversations, he couldn't help but notice how Harry's hands shook. How he couldn't pick anything too small up, how his hands where completely broken, shaking, obviously numb…

He didn't know how Hermione did it. How she could look at him without feeling pity, without wanting to treat him differently…she was a better person then he was.

Not that this would keep him away now that he knew where Harry was. Oh no, he planned to help Hermione teach Harry Herbology and a few of Dumbeldores lessons-even if it killed him!

But this time…he'd brace himself first…

-oOo-

Remus opened his eyes slowly; groaning at his throbbing head. He lifted a heavy limb to his brow and massaged his temple timidly. Everything ached, his old muscles felt like they had been forced to swim the English Channel. He tried to sit up and stopped rather quickly.

The English Channel was nothing to this-_Merlin_-he felt like the Hogwarts Express had hit him…then reversed back over him a few more times to be sure.

"Moony?!"

Remus looked over towards the voice-seeing a ragged looking Sirius Black at his bedside. The man had heavy bags under his eyes; he looked dead on his feet.

Remus told him as such.

The same old barking laugh made him smile-even if it hurt his cheeks.

"Well if I'm dead you've been mummified for a few thousand years" Sirius remarked, relief pooling in his dull grey eyes.

Remus arched a brow mockingly

"Only a thousand? Well then, I'm doing fine. Cause I feel like shit…thousand year old shit-Merlin my head aches" he closed his eyes and rubbed at them-giving his friend a chance to wipe the incriminating moisture from his eyes.

_It must have been so close_, he realized, for good 'ol jolly Padfoot to react like this.

Moony vaguely remembered swimming in and out of consciousness. At one point he was coherent enough to hear Madam Pomfrey frantically discussing silver poisoning with someone…the headmaster perhaps? Remus was sure that he saw the old man at one point…

"Here" Remus reopened his eyes to see a potion being pushed at him, he went to sit up but before he could try hands appeared and helped him. The flask was pushed back under his nose a moment later.

"Drink-Madam Pomfrey made me promise I'd force it down your throat as soon as you woke up"

Sirius didn't wait for his answer, as soon as Remus opened his mouth glass was at his lips and hot Pepper Up potion was scolding his throat.

He spluttered indignantly, scowling.

"You didn't have to be so literal!" he choked out.

Sirius mumbled apologizes, sitting back down on his stool and passing the now empty flask nervously from hand to hand.

_Now_ Moony was worried.

"How bad was it" Remus found himself asking, and Sirius stiffened- squeezing the flask tightly between his hands.

"Bad." He said- voice far too small.

"Sirius…" Remus asked tentatively, "what happened?"

He cringed, shrinking on his stool, his knuckles growing white.

"You died"

Moony almost missed the tiny words, but paled as they finally sunk in.

"D-died?"

"Pomfrey only just got you back…the silver…it was in your lungs. You stopped breathing and she couldn't-you didn't-couldn't-you just _stopped!_ I couldn't do anything. You just stopped you bastard-but she did something…I missed it…I was a…eh…a 'tad' ….distraught- but then you breathed again- but the silver was still there and-you hadn't breathed in so long-cell damage-but she said you where alright! Just a shortness of breath from now on-a limp-perhaps a slur…Merlin moony! You _stopped_! How could you have stopped! You're stronger then that!"

Sirius's shoulders were shaking, his head bowed over the flask as he wrung it between his hands fiercely.

Remus didn't know what to say. He'd _died?_...

"I'm…sorry?"

Sirius head snapped back up-his eyes suspiciously red- and snarled

"YOU'RE NOT MEANT TO SAY THAT! IT WAS MY FAULT! - IN DUMBLEDORES OFFICE- I BLEW THEM UP AND YOU INHALED THEM! IT WAS MY FAULT MOONY! PLEASE-please! _Merlin_- please forgive me Moony! I didn't know-I didn't think I –I-I-I can't loose you too!"

His voice all but broke as he finished, reaching out and clasping Remus's shoulder tightly-as if reassuring himself that he was still there. But Sirius didn't look up to confirm it, he just clenched his fist in the soft material of his robes.

"J-james and Lily's death were my –f-fault. I a-almost lost Harry- and I about–k-killed you too" Padfoots breathing was erratic and hitching-but his eyes were dry.

_Merlin, he still blames himself-he couldn't have known about the rat… and in Dumbeldores office? I could have stopped him, and I didn't think about it either, I never really noticed all those silver instruments…I mean, I _noticed _them, but it didn't click that they where made of _silver_. He's always beating himself up, just looking for a reason to hate himself…. _

Remus reached up and clasped Sirius hand, squeezing it as he offered a small smile.

"I won't forgive you"

Sirius looked up, a pained expression on his face as he all but waited for the full blame. Remus shook his head,

"You haven't done anything I need to forgive you for you Prat, and there's nothing you need to apologize about…well, except in sixth year when you ran away after painting the hallway orange, leaving me to deal with McGonagall. Or when you used my ancient runes book for a door stop, or when you stole all my ties and my prefect badge, or sent all those love letters to all the girls in Sytherin in my name. Or when you sent love letters to all the _**boys**_in Sytherin in my name. Or that time in seventh where you left me in the common room in my boxers after we all got drunk. Or…well, let's just say you owe me a few detentions eh? Nothing more."

Sirius gave a watery grin, clutching at Remus's shoulder again.

"That Sytherin prank was gold-the looks my dear cousins gave you"

Remus rolled his eyes.

"You can start repenting by getting me some tea"

-oOo-

Hermione sat at the table the There and Gone room had provided her. Books where piled around her in tall teetering stacks, scrolls where half unrolled under her arms-getting creased as she wrote frantically on one and then switched to another. She'd already knocked over two inkwells, and Harry had stuck her remaining one to the table to prevent it happening again.

She was a tad flustered.

She had four two foot long papers due. History, Transfiguration, Potions and Charms. She'd kept putting them off- each time she thought she'd put her book down and start she'd realized something and jump at the new idea. Hermione's research was progressing- just a few more days and the right books and she was sure that she could help Harry. She knew she could fix it… _If not remove it completely_…If she could do this…well, it would make things eventually much easier.

Another calling was bound to happen. It was just a matter of time. All Hermione could do was hope she could change it before they were summoned again…_Harry was in so much pain…_

She groaned and let her head thump down against the table. She was getting sidetracked _**again!**_

She knew that the professors would understand if she was late-_though maybe not Snape_- they might even give her an extension-but she didn't want one! She wanted to finish the papers on time LIKE SHE ALWAYS DID!

Merlin! She wanted to _blast_ something!

A soft 'pop' signaled the arrival of a target mannequin in the corner of the room.

Hermione scowled. It didn't help that Harry kept chuckling from his couch for no reason. Nothing was going right!-well, apart from Harry's recuperation.

He looked so much better it made her breathe easy. She was no longer terrified that he'd just drop after walking around for a while or after not taking his fraygen. He'd even eaten some toast the other day… ('_real food_' he'd groaned blissfully before he ran to the bathroom to throw it back up)

An insistent tapping at the window made her start. Looking up- flyaway hair even more so than normal-Hermione saw two owls hovering at the window.

Harry looked up and glared, rolling his eyes before looking back up at the ceiling.

One owl had come with another Order of Merlin-the third this week- the other…

Hermione grinned and jumped to her feet.

"Hermione! Don't let it in! I don't want _another_ one!" Harry moaned, but she ignored him, unlatching the window and throwing it wide.

Groaning Harry snatched the red ribboned letter from the proud owl as it hooted at him. But with a scowl he battered it away while it gave him an indignant screech. It fluttered about, looked at its unattended delivery in his hand, so he threw the scroll into the corner with the dueling dummy, muttering huffily under his breathe. The owl let its wings scuff his head as it turned to leave-leaving a present on his shoulder.

Hermione ignored Harry's yells and cussing as she took the box from the smaller owl and counted out nine gallons and two knuts, placing them in the rather large bag attached to the petite owls leg.

Finally, Hermione turned to the livid boy and rolled her eyes, flicking her wand and vanishing the mess on his robes.

Before Harry could put in a word Hermione pushed the box forward-beaming.

"They came!"

Harry frowned, distracted by her enthusiasm. She watched as he shot another look at the owls shrinking form; chuckling silently as she realized that the look promised plucking.

"What came?" he asked grudgingly, tearing his eyes (and likely his thoughts) away from the bird.

Hermione sighed and signaled for him to open it as she sat on the couch. The look in her eyes held no other choice. Harry did as he was told and sat beside her.

Inside the box was a pair of dark gloves.

Hermione could tell by his expression he didn't know what they where made of. They were too soft to be dragon hide after all.

His frown deepened in confusion and he looked back up. Hermione took the gloves from the box and laid them on her lap before digging back through the package. She straightened a moment later, brandishing a piece of parchment that had been hidden beneath the mid forearm length garments.

"Here, read" she instructed, still beaming. She watched as Harry, still frowning slightly, took the slip of parchment and began to read.

She sat back with a grin, it had been hard to find the perfect gloves for Harry-in fact it had taken two days of research before she found a wizard who could make what she wanted.

The gloves where made of Niffler Skin and spelled to fit whoever put them on. Subtle but tough, the hide was even naturally resistant to small scale spells due to the magical creature it was once part of. But it was the wizard that made the gloves that made them special.

Giorgi Armanio was an Italian wizard who managed an enchanted fashion line, and ran a Muggle one on the side. He specialized in everyday spells, like scuff resistant shoes and non creasing dress robes, but with a few well placed inquires (surprisingly enough it was Charlie Weasely who finally pointed her in the right direction) Hermione found that the man had another business. One a little more high class.

Those everyday charms were childs play to a man who made invisibility cloaks, silent shoes, and fire proof hats.

And with a single letter, a mention of Harrys name and a description of what she wanted-she had Giorgi Armanio writing back and offering a half price deal.

The gloves where charmed magnificently. She could feel the magic pulsing on her lap through her skirt-even the slight metallic smell of magic rose from them. _I hope they work…_

Her idea had been simple enough-if Harrys hands couldn't grip anything, make the gloves do it instead.

But as Giorgi had explained in one of his letters, the actual spell work to achieve this would have to be quite intricate. The gloves would have to react to the wearers intentions, they would need to be partially animated and have no effects on the already damaged hands.

That had been one of the biggest difficulties to overcome-Armanio had written-he had a number of spells which could animate clothing- his Dancing Dress robes for example. But most of the spells were placed on clothing which was not on direct contact with skin-like a cloak. Some of his spells would heat up the cloth or animal hide to such a point it would burn-another would, in all likely hood, fuse to organic matter and never come off…

And then Hermione had received another letter-the black eagle owl who delivered it crooning proudly as it drank from her goblet of pumpkin juice.

'_I've found a Charm that will work!-_' were the opening words-scrawled in massive jittery letters. Armanio's excitement had bled onto his page with the ink splotches and messy script. '-_It draws from the wearers magical core to enact the spell' _he went on to explain _'because of this; its connected directly with the wearer-through that I can establish a link to the subconscious and allow the gloves to react to thought! Because the spell that animates the hide is drawing its energy from the wearer there's no side effects-because it's an extension of the wearer! Not a foreign charm-_'the Weaving Wizard had gone on and on-and Hermiones' grin had grown wider and wider.

And now here they were! Hermione fingered the soft hide lightly-hearing it crackle at her touch. She looked up to see Harry's eyes grow larger, she knew the parchment explained what the gloves could and would do- and finally his flickering eyes stopped their rapid movement and he looked up.

Before she could say a word Harry had launched himself across the small gap between them and engulfed her in a rib breaking hug.

-oOo-

Harry buried his face in Hermione's shoulder- her scent thick in his nose-her hair everywhere about his face-but all he could do was hold her tighter.

Merlin she was brilliant! She was fantastic in everyway and form-thinking up something like this! Merlin, Merlin, Merlin-he'd be able to hold a quill again! He could help her up if he needed too-he'd be able to go flying and actually control the broom! He buried his face deeper- memorizing the strange smell of lemon myrtle shampoo mixed with old books. The coarse texture of her hair against his cheek was heaven. Everything tactile was heaven-from the warmth of a body in his arms to the feel of her woollen vest against the crooks of his elbows. He felt tentative hands reach up and grip his back and realized that he was shaking.

"Thank you" he mumbled into her brown locks. Hermione's hands began to rub absent circles across his back- and he tensed as her fingers brushed over lumpy scars. But Hermione didn't pause-she didn't recoil in disgust as he was sure some people would when they saw him.

"You're welcome Harry- I'm just glad I can help" her soft words, uttered so delicately into his ear sent a shiver down his spine-one he hoped she didn't notice.

Slowly, reluctantly, he drew back-knowing he'd have to explain himself if he held onto her for much longer.

She held out the gloves and he reached forward. But before he could touch them she grasped his wrist gently with her free hand.

Harry frowned in confusion

"Wha-"

"I'll have to help you put them on you Harry" she explained and Harry felt very dumb. _Of course she'll have to put them on me. Yes I'll be able to use my hands…but they'll still be broken._

With a warm grip Hermione tugged the gloves into place.

Harry felt the change imminently. His hands tingled-he could _feel_ the hairs on the backs of them standing on end if not the leather against his palms. The fizz of the spells on the gloves filled the air and he felt the air around his arms grow warm. Slowly, dimly he felt something moving through his veins-across his skin-through his muscles…it was his magic, he realized -feeding the spells on the gloves. And then the strange sensation stopped-leaving behind only a dim sense of movement under his skin as his magic continued to flow.

He looked up at Hermione and found her looking at him with the same expression of apprehension he was sure he was wearing.

_Will they work?_

"Do they work?"

Harry closed his eyes and reached out for Hermione's hand.

She gasped and Harry screwed up his eyes more tightly. Preparing himself for the disappointment of seeing his still unresponsive hands, expecting to see them sitting limply atop hers.

He gathered his courage.

Finally opened his eyes Harry saw his hand was linked firmly with Hermione's own.

-oOo-

The next hour passed in a flurry of movement as Harry raced around the room and picked everything up and put it back down. Grinning like a child with a new toy broom he twirled Hermione's quill between his fingers, laughing he flipped through the pages of one of her books. Dancing about he tossed an inkwell from hand to hand.

Hermione sat back and watched it all, her head dizzy, eyes clouded, Harry's embrace still at the forefront of her mind. Merlin-his hair had smelt so good. She'd been too shocked to notice at the time. And his arms had been so strong around her-just like in the hospital wing when she'd broken down. Even if his hands had been limp at her back-it hadn't mattered.

She'd felt so safe, so warm, so comfortable surrounded by those arms.

Hermione shrieked as firm hands gripped her waist and lifted her up into the air-she looked down at Harry who was grinning. She laughed at the shear joy shining through those eyes that had been so lifeless of late and felt hollow when he put her back down.

Harry skipped off- taking off his rectangular glasses and polishing them- then picking up her quill again.

Suddenly he froze-the quill falling from his hand before he slowly turned around.

"Your wand"

Hermione frowned. Harry's face was pale, his eyes wide in his face. She could almost see the thoughts whirling behind them.

"Wha-"

"Hermione, give me your wand" Harry's voice was completely toneless, he just held out his right hand and Hermione saw it was shaking even more then usual.

Her own brown eyes widened as she realized what he was thinking. She felt her heart thunder in her chest at the look in his green eyes-knowing their sudden blankness was just a mask for his growing excitement.

_And I have to crush it._ Feeling like she might cry, Hermione shook her head.

"I'm sorry Harry. But it won't work"

Harry didn't move. His eyes bore into hers and her voice began to quiver as she explained.

"The-the spells on the gloves create artificial movement, Harry. If you hold a wand it won't react, because it will only sense the spells that are allowing you to hold it-it won't be able to sense _you_ …even though its your magical core that is fuelling the spells, the wand will still only detect the charms themselves…I'm sorry"

Harry's awaiting hand dropped to his side and he shrugged, shooting her a lopsided grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Worth a try eh?"

-oOo-

As Remus lay in bed Sirius told story after story of the summers he had spent with James after being disowned fifth year. Naturally, Moony already knew half of these tales; neither James nor Sirius could help but boast loudly after school resumed each year. He and Peter didn't have a choice but to listen- by the end of the annual train ride they always knew about every prank and new spell the two of them had worked out and pulled off.

But the bedridden werewolf still laughed at every punch line, and 'oohed' and 'aahhed' at all the right moments. Yes, he may have already known about all of the escapades of Messers Padfoot and Prongs, but they where being told by Sirius in an effort to cheer him up…

It was sweet really, how hard he was trying to make him laugh-how hard he was trying to make him forget about his short attempt of walking earlier…

Yet despite his friends worthy efforts … Remus couldn't help but brood.

He'd need a cane from now on. His left leg just couldn't hold his weight… 'might have a limp' Sirius has said earlier…a_ limp_ Remus could handle. He'd dealt with far worse after bad transformations. But his left leg was hopelessly useless. He'd be better off getting a wooden claw like Mad Eye for all the movement it held. Yes, a wooden leg would have more movement than his own in its current state.

For a brief moment he entertained himself with the idea of using Lucius Malfoys snake cane-striding about like a pimp…

His silent mirth faded quickly. He needed a _cane_. Now, Moony wasn't vain, but he _was _proud.

He'd been a werewolf all his life-he'd been an outcast- a pauper- a 'beast' not worthy of being considered human despite the fact he was human every day a month but one. He'd endured all that; he'd endured facing a world alone after that one fateful Halloween where his nice existence had been shattered.

He'd coped with burying his three closest friends, he'd dealt with the reality he'd never see his little Nephew again. He'd come to grips to the fact that his final friend would spend eternity behind bars because he was a traitor; responsible for the others deaths.

He'd handled having his familiar, if not comfortable world tipped on its head by a single name on a map he'd thought lost, he'd handled the fact that all those years ago _he _was the one thought to be the traitor…

All that time, all those years of hardship-he'd been able to face with straight shoulders and his head held high.

And now he needed a cane. Another physical reminder of his curse to go with the three old, fading scars running cross his face…

People would think him _weak_.

"Moony? Are you even listening to me?! How could you not find charmed pieces of furniture in the Potter household interesting!? Everything was stuck to the ceiling!" Sirius demanded-snapping Remus' straying thoughts back to the present.

Remus looked up guiltily and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"If I was boring you, you could have said so" he said, leaning back in his chair and looked around the room. He grinned at Madam Pomfrey as she strode past; but as soon as she saw the man she paled, setting her eyes firmly away from the convict despite his good intentions. _Wait-Sirius? Good intentions? The silver must had gone to my head as well!_ True the situation had been explained to her, she knew Sirius was innocent, but still the matron could not relax around the grey eyed man she had seen staring out of wanted posters.

The Ravenclaw that had apparently seen him and Sirius the day of the silver incident had also been informed of the circumstances if he remembered correctly. A Miss Helena in second grade; a typical studious girl suited perfectly to her house, she was nice enough- if curious to a fault. If ever there was someone who the saying 'Curiosity killed the cat' referred too, it was her. The girl had agreed to an unbreakable vow with Dumbledore though. Apparently she was very proud to be trusted with this information.

Then again, information was information, and to a Ravenclaw…well, she was thrilled.

Remus sighed quietly and looked back down at his leg. Maybe he'd be able to commiserate with Harry now about useless limbs.

-oOo-

Hermione was back at her desk, hand cramping from her frenzied writing, back stiff from her constant hunch. But she was done-all essays complete, each one with two inches more then required to make up for her absence. She fought back a yawn as he stretched- and looking through watering eyes she saw Harry who was still jumping about the room and picking things up. She chuckled as she cleared up the desk she'd made such a mess of and neatened her stack of papers to hand in.

"All done, have you had your Fraygen Harry?"

Receiving no answer, Hermione looked back up and watched Harry's still bouncing form.

"Harry?"

Nothing, he just skipped over to the globe and spun it before moving on to poke at the dueling mannequin.

Hermione chewed at her lip.

"Are you angry at me? I know I've been ignoring you but I had to finish this, or is this about the wand?" she asked him, but still he did not respond; he didn't even pause in his repeated exploration of the room.

Hermione frowned and crossed her arms.

"This is childish Harry, the least you can do is answer me!" she huffed. Still nothing- he just jumped back to the globe and spun it again.

"Harry James Potter" she warned, moving forward angrily, but Harry just move back to the mannequin and prodded at it. Again, and again, and again, and again.

"Harry?"

And again, and again, and again, and again.

"Harry?!"

And again. And again. And again.

Hermione strode forward and grabbed at his shoulder to spin him around but shrieked.

Her hand went straight through him.

Realization dawned and Hermione cursed herself for not noticing Harry had been repeating the exact same actions over and over. She felt her face boil as her temper seethed. Hermione Jane Granger had NOT just been fooled by an illusion for the past hour!

The illusion flickered before her eyes and finally dulled-becoming a ghost of its original self as the spells maintaining it began to wan.

Hermione's still lagging mind finally caught up with the situation. Her brown eyes widened as her face paled. Hands shaking Hermione looked frantically about the room.

If Harry wasn't here…where was he?

-oOo-

Harry stood at the edge of the Quiddich pitch and felt the brisk wind tug at his cloak. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin-letting the playful breeze tease at his hair as well.

Merlin's beard-the wind felt amazing. So soft and gentle-tickling and playing like a mischievous child-pulling at his scarf. Picking up and tossing leaves, he knew that if the wind had a voice it would be chortling joyfully.

He grinned up at the sky, at the springy green grass, at the slushy ground worn down to mud by a constant stream of feet. Even the puddle by his shoe that had splattered across the hem of his robe received a smile.

Outside was fantastic.

And the smells! Trees, cut grass, earth, the pong of stagnate water from the shallows around the lake, Hogwarts itself even smelt like stone- stable and gritty. Harry could even smell the magic itself, sharp and metallic-the tiniest whiffs coated everything.

But one thing was better then all of that. And it was the weight in his gloved hand.

Harry clenched his fist around his Firebolt and heard a small crackle of static in response to the movement. He grinned; he felt his cheeks hurt from the force of it, but couldn't care less. He was going to go flying.

Swallowing down a mad cackle Harry leapt forward-his muscles springing and propelling him faster-his arms swinging back and forth to counteract each long stride-his hair flopped about his face and the sodden ends of his robes slapped about his ankles. He could feel the broomstick vibrating against his glove as it was dragged through the air-eager to fly. Without breaking step he jumped-creating a spray of ripped up grass and mud- and slung a leg about the Firebolt.

In an instant Harry was airborne.

Wind roared about his ears-blood thrummed through his veins-his heart pounded in his chest as he soared. Fabric flapped, gravity was forgotten, and the smell of broom polish was added to the potent concoction of this new tactile world. Harry couldn't keep his voice silent-he let the bubbling sound erupt from his mouth as he laughed, and laughed, and laughed and cried.

Great heaving sobs that began wracked his frame, his throat was burning, his vision was blurred, his eyes stung with tears, and nothing had ever been better.

-oOo-

Hermione ran through the halls, the rushing blood in her ears keeping time with her hammering feet.

_Oh Merlin Harry where are you?!_ She thought frantically as her eyes scanned every dark corner she passed.

He could be anywhere in the castle-hidden passageways, towers, dungeons-all of them had more and more hiding spots he could be taking advantage of. And that was if he was _hiding_.

Hermione blinked tears from her eyes and pushed herself faster. What if he hadn't gone on his own will?! His connection with Voldemort must have been amplified with that _thing_ on his chest-why hadn't she considered that possibility earlier?- _and I was just sitting there-doing HOMEWORK instead of researching a way to change the connection. He could be anywhere-trapped in his own head as Voldemort walks him off the top of the astronomy tower!_

Tears running down her face in earnest Hermione shoved the thoughts into the dark recesses of her mind. _No-I am NOT going to think of anything like that! Harry's fine! Just upset but fine. The gloves and wand idea must have pushed him over the edge…_

…_Over the edge._

For a horrible moment Hermione could see Harry's form plummeting to the earth. _NO NO NO! Harry's fine! _PERFECTALLYFINE!

Hermione's hands pushed open the doors to the infirmary-and ignoring the answering 'Booms' as the doors bounced back against the wall, she kept running. The girl went straight to the single bed at the end of the room where the curtains were drawn tight. A moment before she threw the curtains wide she heard the soft 'pop' of a Animagus transformation.

Professor Lupin looked up at her tear smudged face in alarm as Sirius Black popped back into existence.

He jumped to his feet and grasped Hermione's shoulders-face pale as the crisp sheets surrounding the bed ridden werewolf.

"What's happened to Harry! Where is he!?" Sirius demanded; grey eyes frantic.

Hermione fell forward against the convict and clutched at his shirt desperately. Tentative arms stroked her hair as the question was repeated.

"I don't know" Hermione whimpered, shaking her head as tears soaked his shirt.

-oOo-

Hogwarts halls had never seen such frantic searching since the night when the infamous Sirius Black had broken into Gryffindor tower.

Teachers had cancelled their classes, detentions were postponed, because even the students where helping. Every classroom was looked through, every corridor and window and closet. Every dungeon was scoured, every turret, short cut and desk overturned. Every bed was looked under; every secret passage known to Filch was now common knowledge as he sent students down each one. Messer Padfoot himself searched the rest of them.

But The Missing Boy could not be found.

-oOo-

Sirius Black was going insane. Wand held high he sprinted down hidden passage after hidden passage. He bounded down twisted corners, hit his head on sloping ceilings and waded through mazes of ankle deep water as he searched the labyrinth under the lake. The Marauders had found it in their seventh year, and blocked off its entrance after they caused a… _sizable_ leak. But he was checking it just in case.

But all he found were some surprisingly sized bugs.

Was this what he used to put his parents through!? It almost made him feel guilty!

_Where in Merlin is that boy!?_

Slowly, unwillingly, Sirius paused and let himself catch his breath. It felt like he'd been dashing about for hours. Glancing at his watch he realized that he had. He rested his forehead against the cool stone as he watched his visible breath cloud about his face. Despite his short rest, his heart was still thumping madly in his chest as his thoughts went haywire.

He had imagined everything that could have gone wrong twice over-from finding Harry's body bashed to death by the Whomping Willow, to finding him under a pile of avalanched books. Images of a dark haired body face down in the lake, of a pale bespectacled face alone and slack in the darkness of some nameless corridor, of cold stiff hands all made him nauseous as his Lumos wavered.

It was moments like these that he was guiltily thankful that Lily and James where not alive. He wouldn't wish this kind of worry on_ Snape_-let alone the boy's parents.

And with the trouble Harry always wound up tangled in? Sirius was sure that James would have had a heart attack long, _long_ ago. Battle Voldemort at eleven? - Palpations for sure. Battle a giant snake? - Chest pains in an instant. Face a hoard of Dementors? –respiratory arrest the moment he answered the fireplace. Entered in the Tri Wizard Cup? - James would be fainting at each event.

And this year?

This year was enough to give any Guardian a heart attack. And why in the world would the Potters think _he, _notorious womanizing bachelor, leather wearing, motorbike riding Sirius Padfoot Orion Black-would ever be capable of handling a child? Of_ raising_ a child?

Their child…

_I'm such a bad substitute for them-_**me**_ a godfather? What were they thinking? _

If Sirius ever relaxed again it would be a miracle.

What would James be doing in a moment like this? Sirius found himself chuckling at the thought, before or after the panic attack?-no, James was a bad example, what would _Lily _be doing?

She'd be thinking rationally of course, going through everything she knew while planning a grounding of a lifetime.

So what did Sirius know? The room didn't show any signs of forced entry or exit. Harry had gone to the effort of creating an illusion to fool Hermione, and Sirius refused to believe that he had been controlled by Voldemort while doing it. So where would a sixteen year old Potter be if he had the choice?

Sirius ran a hand threw his hair before he ran off-transforming into Padfoot mid stride to run faster.

_I bet his broomstick is missing if anyone went and looked._

-oOo-

Harry's hysteria was finally wearing off, leaving behind a dull feeling lodged, what seemed permanently, in his throat. He was flying in slow looping circles now, gently spiraling down before making an equally soft climb back up. His breath was still coming in erratic hitches, his eyes were still stinging, and he knew his face would be blotchy and red, but he'd never felt more peaceful.

Closing his eyes, the sun a weak warmth fluttering against his face, he could almost imagine he was in the middle of a game and absolutely nothing had changed.

The crowd was roaring-the sounds of bludgers were careering through the air with a faint whistle, they're tiny animated chattering always a hint to doge a minute too late. The players shouting was just a mere overtone to the sound of their billowing robes.

Each Keepers taunts and the Weasley twins laughter were always present, as was the solid 'thwunk' of a bat colliding with gibbering balls. The continuous swish and thump of the Quaffle being passed. Friends yelling his name, the flapping of house banners, the tiny hum of a snitches wings just out of sight…

Harry, eyes still closed, reach out his gloved hand and wrapped them around his imaginary goal.

"And Potters got the snitch! Gryffendor wins!" Harry whispered, adding the roaring of the crowd to follow the games outcome. He held the tiny 'ball' above his head and pumped his fist, grinning at a crowd only he could see.

They were all chanting his name-all he needed to do was land and they would carry him on their shoulders. The twins would sneak Odgens into the punch and the party in Gryffendore tower would be one of the biggest, and loudest they had ever had.

A slight frown began to ruin his delusions as he realized that the chanting was infact an angry yell.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" the small, gruff voice thundered.

"GET DOWN HERE NOW! AND NO DIVING!" the voice continued. Harry hunched his shoulders guilty and peaked down at the pitch far below his swinging feet.

Sirius was looking up at him, and catching his godson's eye he pointed at the boy and then the ground fiercely.

"NO DIVING!" he repeated and Harry rolled his eyes. But with a small grin he angled down, this may be the last chance he got outside after his little 'escape' stunt-and Harry planned to make the most of it.

He looked at his godfather and grinned.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" the man screeched-voice breaking for a moment.

Down-down like a stone he fell-the wind buffeting at his face-gravity sinking its claws into his skin. Air whistled in his ears as his eyes watered and Sirius got bigger. And bigger.

And bigger.

With a side splitting laugh Harry pulled up-the toes of his sneakers skimming the ground and sending up shards of grass. He pulled his broomstick to his chest and corkscrewed tightly-spinning parallel to the ground. The thrill of a dive always made Harry feel like his heart was swelling, but accompanied by the frantic swearing from his godfather. Harry felt warm. _Loved,_ if he dared think it.

Finally slowing; just an inch from the ground Harry let himself fall to the pitch with a soft thud, broom clutched tightly in his hand. He lay there, beaming up at the pale sky-streaked with dull grey clouds-while rain threatened with a soft mist. He could hear Sirius's steady cussing growing louder as he ran the length of the pitch towards him.

Dusk was setting itself daintily in place with chilly winds and moaning gusts. And as he stayed there, wet grass soaking his back, mud squelching beneath his head, nose growing numb, he decided that he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

-oOo-

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A/N: MERLIN! 19 pages for chapter 20! I was soooooo close. Yay! not too many angsty things either (kinda) and Harrys getting better (kindacoughcoughcoughmentalhealthcoughcough) and Sirius becomes parental. The world is ENDING! Sirius-being remotely _responsible_?! /locks self in bunker waiting for the apocalypse/ well, I promise, next chapter the plot actually moves. Hopefully. hope ya all liked!

Mali


	22. xxi

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Disclaimer: JK's world, I'm just living here

A/N: so sorry for the gaps between updates! So heres an extra long chapter to make up for the inactiveness! Hope you like! Once again, this chapter has not been officially edited, so please excuse some mistakes. Please R&R

* * *

**The Missing Boy**

**Chapter Twenty One**

* * *

The darkening sky was just as dull as the waning light of dusk had been, and yet Harry still reveled in it. The sound of Sirius's cursing and thundering footsteps made the soggy ground beneath him quiver; and the chill of the on coming night was beginning to creep into his bones. That oh so wonderful smell of grass was still surrounding him, and Harry planned to memorize it while he could. He was amazed just how much he'd missed it. All of it. He never wanted to go back inside again.

But just as he made this decision, Sirius chose to block out his wonderful view of the overcast sky. The big man collapsed to his knees beside him and Harry suddenly found himself in Padfoots arms.

Warm rough hands had gathered him up into a rib breaking hug. The slightly damp robes of his Godfather engulfed his face and the smell of damp, musty passageways filled his nose as Padfoot buried his head in Harry's shoulder. Harry knew this would be the peak of his day-because of course the scolding's were going to fill the rest of it.

_Maybe this is part of my punishment_? Harry thought bemusedly, for Sirius seemed determined to squeeze all the air from his lungs, but a moment later the man began muttering angrily.

"You stupid STUPID boy! Running off like that! Hermione's worried sick-crying. Stupid! What if death eaters came!? -Don't think!-Just like your father-Lily would kill you for this! I was so worried-you little bloody PRAT!" and with that Harry was scuffed across the back of his head as Sirius held him at arms length.

"Don't you dare run off like that again! We have the whole sodding castle looking for you! Merlin's beard I think I'm going to be sick. Never again. NEVER AGAIN you hear me!?"

Harry nodded numbly, his mind spluttering quietly as a new thought struck him. He was amazed that he had never noticed it before, but someone cared about him. _Really_ cared about him. True, he had always known that Sirius was the one adult he could always count on. But he'd never thought of it like this. Sirius was the one who'd answer his call for help, in fact he had already proved this when he tried to tell him how to get past his Dragon during the first task. His Godfather, who used to ride a motorbike and was best friends with his father, Sirius was the one who would charge to his rescue, wand ablaze, with a witty retort ready on his tongue.

Distantly, he'd always known it, but he'd never been faced with evidence like THIS.

Sirius Black, Padfoot, a gallivanting _Marauder_, was acting like Molly Weasley.

Was acting like a **parent.**

Oblivious to Harry's revelation, Sirius pulled him back into another bone breaking hug.

"Merlin! I'm glad you're okay." Padfoot admitted into the top of Harry's messy head, while- if possible- tightening his hold on him.

Harrys mind was still in a spin, _parent, parent, parent_, the word was a wrecking ball in his mind, destroying all other thoughts and leaving itself imprinted everywhere it could.

"Mum and Dad would probably come back and kill you if I wasn't" Harry found himself saying, perhaps attempting a joke; he wasn't sure because he'd had no control of his mouth, let alone his mind, as they formed the words. Sirius's shoulders shook.

"Too right. Your mum would be chasing me around the kitchen with a rolled up paper again. Still have nightmares about that night. And James would disown me"

Harry laughed at tad hysterically at the mental image of Snuffles running from an enraged red headed, green eyed mother he'd never known. A prophet in her raised hand.

But still the new thought chased him.

_Parent. _

"I'd ground you for life If I thought you'd actually listen" Sirius muttered. He pushed Harry back again-he was starting to feel like a yoyo

"AND WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT DIVE!?-brilliant-bloody brilliant of course-BUT BLOODY HELL HARRY! BLOODY **FUCKING** HELL!"

Harry was feeling oddly light headed, and for once he knew it wasn't because of his health. No, it was the odd sense of euphoria that was rushing through his veins, mixing with that long missed adrenaline rush he always got from flying.

_A Father?…_

"Well!? What do you have to say for yoursel-oh Merlin. I sound like my mother. Never let me finish that sentence Harry-save me from myself! If I ever finish that sentence you have permission to curse me, and make it a good one too cause I promise you'll only get one shot before I have you in a headlock." Padfoot babbled; his eyes glazed over by the very idea of what he almost said.

At the garbled outburst, Harry felt his mind slowly click back into gear. Perhaps not a parent per say, but something very close too it.

"Come on. On your feet; you're covered with mud. And don't think I've forgotten that stunt! Shit- if I could have pulled that off at your age I'd be…well, probably dead."

He frowned at the idea for a moment before blinking, shaking his head and continuing on.

"Or still in the same position I am now, cause I doubt I'd have been smart enough to use it for anything, career wise or otherwise, and I'd probably have a few more scars-but MERLIN KID! That's beside the point!"

Harry laughed as he dragged himself into a sitting position; mud squelching as it reluctantly relinquished its grip on him. Definatly not a parent of the conventional kind, but Harry didn't mind.

"You could have broken something! Hell-I'm surprised you **didn't **break something! And frankly; you're banged up enough as is for the rest of your LIFE! AND THAT BLOODY DIVE STOLE A FEW FUCKING YEARS FROM _MY_ LIFE! You better bloody DO AS I SAY to make up for that and BEHAVE!" Sirius continued, waving his arms about his head to emphasize his point.

His frame crumpled as he rubbed at his eyes

"Bloody _hell_ I need some Ogden's" his Godfather muttered under his breath.

_Godfather. _The title suddenly meant more to Harry then it had before.

Grabbing Harry by the arm, Padfoot began to steer him back towards Hogwarts hulking shape. Harry followed without a word of complaint; head buzzing pleasantly, covered in mud, freezing, with his Firebolt at one side and an enraged Godfather at the other.

No, Harry didn't mind at all.

-oOo-

Draco Malfoy was in a position he never thought he would find himself in.

He, a great pureblood wizard who was by _far_ the most intelligent student in his year (a certain mudblood would NOT be mentioned thankyou_very_much). He, who was heir to the Malfoy legacy, _HE!_ Who had been voted most eligible in the Witch Weekly's last pole!

And here he was, up to his elbows in what was likely thousand year old grime.

He had _dirt_ under his _fingernails_.

He had _dust _all over his _robes._

He had _cobwebs_ in his_**hair**_.

He was crawling through a tiny, cramped, stuffy TUNNEL for MERLINS SAKE!

And why? WHY?! Because HARRY BLOODY POTTER WAS **BLOODY WELL** MISSING!

…

_**AGAIN!**_

Draco seethed as he shuffled forward, arm over arm down the small space, dragging himself further into the dank little hole. Because, of course, he was the only one in his group who had been able to FIT into the miserable space!

_Damn me and my slender shoulders!_ He lamented silently. True he was lean, frighteningly so, but at least he had some height to make up for it. Not that it mattered to his one time _friends._

"Why the hell isn't Pansy in here!" he muttered huffily, voice echoing about the cramped space and boxing at his own ears "She's just as lean as me! But no, miss 'I might break a nail' couldn't_ possibly_ crawl down the tiny blasted hole! I don't even LIKE Potter and I've been forced to look for him. Where is the justice in that! What if I don't WANT him found? Would I still be in this tunnel? Yes! Because_ apparently_ my opinions don't matter! No, they _NEVER_ matter! 'I'm not going in that hole', I say, but what happens the next minute?! I get _stuffed in the hole_! I don't want to bloody well take Arithmacy; useless subject! Just when in battle do you have the time to draw out sets of blasted protective numerals in a doubly blasted array? Never! Its charm work that's useful! Resourceful! But, no, mother _makes_ me drop it! She _makes_ me take up Arithmacy! I don't want to go to father's ridiculous '_business' _parties! But of course I'm forced to go and rub shoulders with all the _right_ people. And I tell father I don't want to be a-"

"You say something Draco? Everything alright in there?"

Draco froze, grey eyes popping in the dim light as he realized he'd been babbling_. Babbling? Malfoy's don't BABBLE!_

"Perfectly fine! Why don't _you_ get in here and see?" he snapped quickly, and his one time friends chuckled merrily as if this were the most _darling_ joke they had ever heard.

Draco continued to drag himself foreword, cursing his stupidity silently. He even managed to ignore the dust bunnies that seemed determined to strangle him. He just had to check this stupid tunnel for the equally dense Potter and then he could leave. Why did the _whole _castle have to be searched anyway? The great Harry Potter would never have come down to the dudgeons after all; any idiot would know that. The resident celebrity wouldn't risk his shoes getting tainted by such a Slytherin domain after all. In fact, he bet scarhead was off somewhere having a right jolly laugh as the student body searched for him.

Draco swore as his elbow connected with the tunnels rough wall, and winced at the sound of tearing fabric. _I must look a right mess_, he thought in disgust as he tried to rub his elbow in the tight space, _good Merlin I want a shower._

But all of these trite thoughts were just the young Malfoy heir's way of distracting himself. For his inner thoughts were in a turmoil, in fact, they were edging on panic. How could he have let his guard slip? How could he have allowed himself to say all that aloud?

Just what had they heard?

-oOo-

Remus shamefully found himself _grateful_ that Hermione was in such a state as she hiccupped haltingly and tried to blink back tears, because she gave him something to do.

Or rather, something _else_ to do. Something else to _focus on_.

He tried to push the fact to the back of his mind. But however much he tried it kept returning like a rouge bludger. _You're acting like a Slytherin_ he realized; arms' freezing for a moment around Hermione's shaking shoulders. Yes, that little voice sounded much too much like Sirius for his liking.

But even if that was true, it didn't change the fact it was a very welcome distraction. How could he possibly fret about Harry as he rubbed soothing circles on his distraught students back? How could he resent the fact he was utterly useless, stuck in bed, as everyone else searched for the boy while Hermiones' breath kept hitching? How could he brood about his useless leg when Hermione needed him to be reassuring, positive and calm?

As the girl crumpled in his arms, muttering disjointed words of guilt, Remus wished he was a better person.

He must be a horrible man, to be, if not _happy_ about someone else's suffering, but thankful for it.

_Definitely a Slytherin, _piped the tiny Sirius voice.

Moony refrained from sighing as he pried Hermione from him gently. The girl was a mess, eyes red, nose blotchy, cheeks stained with tears. She kept wringing at her vest, sniffing, as her tiny voiced quivered.

"Its'all my fault Professor! I was meant to be watching him. I let schoolwork come before Harry. Come before a _human being_! How could I? Harry could be hurt-he-he-he could be _dead_!" she whimpered, voice blocked and muffled. Remus quickly shook his head, conjuring a handkerchief and handing it to her as he grasped her shoulder.

"Come now. He'll be fine Hermione" he said, voice gentle. _Slytherin, Slytherin Slyrtherin, _Sirius mocked. "I promise." He continued, ignoring the voice as much as he could.

"We both know Harry's probably been going stir crazy stuck in one room for so long. And didn't you say he's getting better? He'll be perfectly fine; Sirius is looking for him after all. There's not a nook of this castle that Padfoot doesn't know about, he'll find him. Just you wait and see"

And as if his words held the same power as Sybil Trelawney's raspy voice, the doors of the Hospital Wing creaked open.

"-was still reckless. _You _of all people?! Wait, no, there's the reason right there. Did I mention the castles gone half mad looking for you?" Padfoot's familiar tones enquired, echoing slightly in the hospitals high ceiling. A second later a scoff was heard and a lighter, no less familiar voice replied-"Yes, just once or twice" in an amused if tried timbre.

Hermione's reaction was instantiations. Her breath caught, her red rimmed eyes shot open, and a beaming grin claimed her face. But the joy was brief, for a furious snarl soon took over. Her eyes flashed as she reached for her wand, and a second later the curtains around Remus's bed were fluttering madly. Leaving him suddenly alone.

The sound of sensible heels clipping feverishly against the stone floor assaulted Remus's sensitive ears. He looked at the curtains blocking his view, and for once was quite glad of them.

_Hell hath no fury…_

"Hermione! what ar-" Harry's voice was cut short by a resounding slap that made Moony cringe in sympathy.

"Ouch" he heard Sirius mutter.

"What the hell was that for?!" Harry demanded, no doubt rubbing at his smarting cheek. Remus rolled his eyes. _Yes, that boy is definitely his Fathers Son._

"_WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!_ MERLINS SWEATY BALLS HARRY! I THOUGHT YOU WERE **DEAD!** I THOUGHT VOLDEMORT HAD TAKEN OVER YOUR MIND AND WALKED YOU OFF THE ASTROMONY TOWER! YOU HAVE NO **BLOODY **IDEA HOW _WORRIED_ I WAS! I WANT TO CURSE YOU _SO BAD_ RIGHT NOW, THAT MALFOY THE BOUNCY FERRET WILL LOOK LIKE CHILDS PLAY!" Hermione shrieked; voice cracking and Moony winced, shaking his head to dislodge the ringing that had claimed it. It was days like these that he cursed his werewolf hearing.

"I'll just leave you two to it then hmm?"

The curtains shuffled aside to reveal the owner of the voice, and Remus felt immensely sorry for Harry, left alone to face such an irate Hermione. _She must be livid to use that sort of language, _he mused.

Setting the drapes back in their place, Padfoot smiled and sat beside Remus on his cot.

"I'm taking it you found Harry. Quiddich pitch?"

"Quiddich Pitch" Sirius confirmed.

-"DID IT EVER CROSS YOUR MIND THAT IF YOU WANTED TO GO OUTSIDE SO MUCH THAT YOU COULD HAVE ASKED!? CLASSES HAVE BEEN CANCELLED BECAUSE OF YOU! _CANCELLED!_"-

"That's our boy, you hear that? Disrupting the curriculum, just like his dad. We only managed to get them to do that twice, and that was when we flooded the whole castle second year and set the fourth floor on fire seventh. He's finally growing up" Sirius crooned, wiping aside a fake tear as he sniffed dramatically. Remus shook his head, trying to fight off a grin. He had been the Prefect after all, appearances had to be upheld.

"I'm still not sure how you managed that. The flooding I mean, I saw the fire-in fact-I distinctly remember the smell of singed hair. Peter's eyebrows didn't grow back for weeks"

Sirius snorted, stealing one of Moony's pillows as he took over any spare room the tiny bed offered.

"Wish they never grew back, bloody rat. Oh, and It involved toilets. Lots of toilets. I'll say no more" Padfoot admitted, a shark like grin taking over his face.

-"I CAN'T BELIVE YOU MADE A DOPPELGANGER TO FOOL ME! ILLUSIONS LIKE THAT ARE STRICKLY FORBIDDEN AT HOGWARTS SINCE 1607! IT SAID SO IN 'HOGWARTS, A HISTORY'! YOU BROKE EIGHT RULES WITH ONE SPELL HARRY! **EIGHT RULES!**"-

Both men paused for a moment, listening to Harry's useless babbling which was whisper loud compared to Hermione's earsplitting bellows. Remus was amazed Madam Pomfrey hadn't emerged yet, _then again, maybe she hopes this will finally make a impression on the boy. Detentions never work, but I don't think he will dare agitate Hermione again after this. _

"Hermione has lungs to rival Lily's" Remus noted, tugging his pillow out from under Sirius's head which thumped to the mattress without it.

-"IF YOU DO THAT AGAIN I'M GOING TO_ CASTRATE_ YOU! AND I KNOW THE HEX! SO DON'T TEMPT ME!"-

Sirius chuckled, shuffling about on the bed as he crossed his arms behind his head. Comfortably, he asked

"Do you remember the day Lily Castrated James? I do, bet she used the same spell Hermione's threatening Harry with too. Oh the screams, James refused to leave the dormitory for a week, even after Madam Lenyed grew them back"

-"MELRIN HARRY! I HAVN'T BEEN THIS WORRIED SINCE HALLOWEEN! YOU HORRIBLE BLOODY PRAT!" Another slap cracked through the air, followed soon after by Harry's cussing and a quiet 'could you at least hit the _other _side of my face?!'-

"You sound far too cheerful about this, not just the prospect of Harry being castrated, but the whole situation. Did you yell at him at all? Or just reminisce?" Moony asked, preparing to defend himself with a pillow just in case Sirius took the question the wrong way.

Without opening his eyes, Sirius blew hair from his face.

"Oh I yelled, sounded like my mother. Scared myself for life I did, so I'm trying to forget about the situation, while looking forward to my medication"

"I hid your Firewhisky"

"I hate you"

-oOo-

Two days passed quickly in the castle, but it would take longer for the hubbub to die down. Classes had resumed as usual to the disappointment of most students, and relief of some. But it would take longer for the frenzied rumors to calm.

"I was told they found him asleep in his bed in Gryffindor tower"

"Heard they found him in the forbidden forests! He went to get the unicorns to heal him!"

"nah! I heard that he was back in the Chamber of Secerets!"

"what would he be doing _there?"_

"Talking parseltongue _stupid"_

"he was at the Lake, talking to the Mermaids and the giant squid!"

"I thought he was found by the elves in the kitchen?"

"ew no! The Grey Lady found him in a secret passageway that you can't get out of"

"Then how'd he get _in?_"

"the library! He was totally in the library!"

"Astromondy tower!-yeah that's what-"

"-Dungeons. Mm hmm-yeah-"

"heard he was-"

"no, it was-

"you're all stupid, he was in-"

It went on and on, and for some strange reason, the Quiddich pitch never made its way into the rumor pool. It was far too mundane for most students' tastes after all.

But despite it all, once again Harry potter had disappeared off the map (The marauders map in fact). So as usual, the true story was bogged down by gossip. Lots and _lots_ of gossip.

-oOo-

"Hermione? Is this all really necessary?" Harry asked from his usual spot on the couch the There and Gone room had produced for him.

Hermione scowled as she continued muttering under her breath, flicking and slashing her wand in turn, as if to punctuate the angry thoughts that still circulated her mind.

Harry rolled his eyes and slumped lower in his chair. At last, he was feeling fine. Sure, he still woke up plotting Lucius Malfoys murder every now and then, but he was finally feeling up to par. (And truthfully? He looked forward to those dreams where their roles were reversed) He could eat real food now, and didn't even feel nauseas afterwards. He even looked forward to dinner now. Harry was looking healthy too. None of the gauntness remained, none of the sickly pallor in his skin, if fact; he almost felt like his old self.

The air before Harry was beginning to glow brightly, becoming a curtain of sparks it fluttered as Hermione's wand passed threw it, like motes of dust in sunlight the lights whirled and danced in the air. Harry squinted, and swore he could see runes floating about in the glowing cloud, formed and reformed by clusters of sparks. With a final mumbled word, she stabbed her wand in his directions and the radiance shot forward.

Harry closed his eyes as the lights surrounded him and clung to his skin. It reminded him of the static socks he'd once pulled out of the dryer whenever he had to do the Dursleys laundry. _I wonder what they were told? _He pondered briefly, before a tiny flickering heat trickled across his flesh.

For a second Harry panicked, memories flashing through his mind and tearing apart all rational thoughts. Hermione disappeared; the comfortingly bright room was gone, and the gentle golden light had dulled.

_-The sparks, bright electric blue, jumped and flickered towards him, playing in the uneven currents of his heaving breath. _Oh Merlin what did they **do?!****-**_The lights illuminated the dank cell softly, highlighting every stain on the floor and throwing erratic shadows-They leapt forward-Skitting across his skin, beautiful, dainty-but _Malfoy_ had just conjured these! -dread- They sank into his flesh, slicing at skin and muscle with the ease of a feather, drifting to earth-blood, seeping- weeping-oozing-burning. Pain -_

"Harry?"

Harry jumped and the memory was gone. And as he blinked, the golden light faded too. He swallowed thickly, mastering his rushing breath before opening his eyes.

"Did I hurt you?" Hermione asked quickly, sitting beside him. Harry forced a grin and shook his head.

"Nah, just felt odd is all. What did you do?" he asked, proud that his voice didn't shake. His heart was trotting a hundred mile lap about his chest, and the blood thrumming through his ears was gaining.

Hermione was silent for a moment, taking in his slightly sweating brow before finally accepting his lie. Harry released a subtle breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. There were still some things he didn't want to share.

"It's a tracing charm. Takes a while to caste; so it's impracticable in the battle field and such, but in your case, I think it's perfect. All I need to do now is caste another quick charm and I can track you wherever you are. Only the caster of the original spell and cast the second charm too, a nice safety feature. It wears out after a month though. But for the time being…lets see you trick me with an illusion _now!_"

Harry felt a chuckle rise in his throat, but upon seeing Hermione's expression swallowed it. _Ah, still sore about that is she? _

Harry was quite proud of that illusion, and especially in the fact it had fooled Hermione as long as it had. One fact he wasn't going to part with though; was just how long it had taken him to caste it. He'd had to reference four books! But the time outside he'd stolen were worth it. _Most defiantly worth it,_ he remembered with a smile.

At that moment a sharp rapping came from the door.

"Are you two decent in there?" Came Lupin's voice. Harry scowled as the door opened slightly to reveal his favorite professor, eyes closed comically as he grinned.

"Not interrupting anything am I? Don't want to have to explain any goings on to Sirius later if I am"

"_Professor_!" Hermione gasped, face bright red. Lupin chuckled as he closed the door behind himself.

"Technically I've been given sick leave for a few more weeks. So 'Lupin' or 'Remus' will do. I'm no ones teacher till then. Not officially at least." He told them, his usual smile surrounded by a pale face. Harry noticed that he had darker bags then usual around his eyes, and that his grip on his cane was turning his knuckles white.

"Where's Snuffles?" Hermione asked as she got up and offered her seat to Lupin, Remus smiled his thanks and collapsed onto the couch.

"Looking for Dumbledore I think. Obviously hasn't found him yet though, because the castles still standing and Dumbledore found me a few minuets ago. And is thus still breathing. He told me to tell you that, 'If your healthy enough to run away Harry my dear boy, then your healthy enough to go back to class' quote un-quote and such" Lupin mumbled, eyes half closed. It was clear he was exhausted.

Harry was grinning,

"I can go back to class!?" he demanded, just to be sure. Merlin, something as mundane, as _normal_ as schoolwork would be… would be _fantastic_!

Lupin chuckled,

"I wish more students sounded that enthusiastic" he muttered before dragging his eyes back open. He smiled at Hermione

"Are you rubbing off on him?" he asked.

Hermione was bemused, looking at Harry as if he'd just sprouted a second head, and that head had resembled _her._

"You want to go back?" she repeated quietly, as if she were trying to figure out some riddle. But Harry ignored her, fore Lupin had continued to speak:

"Yes, you're welcome back in your classes and everyone –faculty I mean of course- has been informed about the…wand situation. We've all organized catch up lessons and alternative activities. As soon as I teach you a few charms you can start"

Harry beamed. Even if all of the professors now knew about the 'wand situation' as Lupin had put it, it couldn't dampen his mood. Even _Snape_ knowing about it didn't bother him. With Hermione's gloves at least he could do theory and write, he could even cut up potion ingredients…_come to think about it…_he realized, _and I cannot believe I'm even _thinking_ this, I think Potions is about to become my favorite subject._

And that was because he would be able to do it without a wand. As it stood, Harry planned to keep his Wandless magic an ace up his sleeve as long as possible. And if that meant playing the squib, so be it.

_Herbology will also be doable. And Divination and Astronomy_. Harry grinned, Herbology he could enjoy, and with Neville at his side he could excel at it too.

"Profes- …er...Mr Lupin? What do you mean by teaching Harry a few Charms? You know all about the Wand situation after all" Hermione asked quietly, and a lopsided grin grew across Lupins face.

"Ah yes. Two days ago in the Hospital wing, I heard you mention something…most interesting Hermione" he admitted. Harry felt his elation slowly dim.

_He couldn't know…could he? _

Harry looked up slowly, and saw Hermione's face pale and turn crimson in the space of a second.

"I..I-you must have heard me wrong professor" she stuttered and Harry wracked his brain for something she might have said-or yelled- that afternoon that could have given him away. His cheek ached at the memories he was drudging up, but any useful one eluded him. _What did she say?!_

The grin on Lupins face left no doubt that he was once a Marauder, and one of the masterminds at that. One mustn't let a Prefect badge fool you after all.

"Oh, I don't know Hermione. What other words could I have mistaken 'doppelganger' for? And if my memory serves me right- and don't bring up the 'O' word, Sirius does that enough as is-you then went on to say something about 'illusions' and breaking eight Hogwarts rules, all by one '_spell'_"

By the end of this, Hermione's face looked like it would be red permanently.

"I'm sorry Harry. I…" she mumbled but Harry shook his head. _It could have been so much worse,_ he was thinking quietly. Hermione's words hadn't given too much away, she hadn't even mentioned 'wandless' after all.

"Someone was going to find out eventually Hermione." He soothed "Don't worry, at least it was Lupin. Does Snuffles know? Have you told anyone else?" he asked Lupin, and Lupin shook his head.

"Not yet, but I'm sure he'll notice Hermione's slip eventually. Snuffles is a smart one, don't let his…absentmindedness fool you. And for now, you're the only one I've said anything too. But it's true? You can still do magic? How?"

That marauder sheen in the professors' eyes had given way to a scholarly one, craving new information like a Niffeler craves gold shiny things.

Harry was surprised to find himself hesitating. _Should I tell him? The more people that know is the more people who can tell…but this is Lupin! If there's someone I can trust its Lupin…but…_

Harry looked up. The graying professor was still white faced, but no one could misinterpret the excitement in his eyes. Excitement for Harry? Excitement of a new form of magic?

_But he's a _werewolf_-_

Harry blanched, stumbling to his feet and way from his chair. His stomach churned as he lurched towards the window that had suddenly popped into existence for his use.

"Harry?!"

"What's wrong!?"

Harry was decidedly green as he threw open the window and thrust his head outside. He breathed in the damp chilly air greedily, his clammy face turning icy with the suddenly cold wind brushing against it. But Harry didn't really notice. His gloves were gripping the windowsill with what he imagined were white knuckles.

_Where the hell did that thought come from!?_

One hand crept to his forehead, a leather-bound finger tracing along his scar…his original scar.

Another hand suddenly gripped his shoulder and Harry jumped, spinning around with a snarl-

But Hermione's concerned face didn't change at the face of his aggression. In fact, her grip on his shoulder tightened. Lines that really shouldn't be around her eyes crinkled with worry.

"Are you feeling ill Harry?" she asked, slowly steering him away from the window.

Harry shook his head, his stomach still heaving.

"I don't know"

-oOo-

As the pure trilling note sounded, Dumbledore rose from his desk and made his way across the room. Opening a side door from his office, he entered his private residence and continued his brisk pace.

His quarters were as extravagant as always. Purple hangings taking pride of place along one wall, embroidered with the tale of Phelgenn the Wise (the man who created the first pensive, and in turn trapped himself in it) which was complete with its own heavy golden trims. Bookshelves charmed to the brim and still overflowing with crumbling tomes lined the opposite wall. All three levels of it. Intricate conjured doilies sat atop each of his twenty four trunks, do-hickies and thing-a-ma-jigs took up space and spun and chimed and whistled. Gilded ladders zoomed about the bookshelves' rungs, colliding with each other with bell like tolls that resonated against the peach marble floors. His four-poster bed, with its' orange quilt and green striped pillows was hidden off to one side, behind a huge door inlayed with mother of pearl and mermaid scales (willingly given of course). And as a finishing touch, a cheery little sign hung from the doors goliath handles. The primary coloured letters proclaiming 'Albus's Room' in a childish but heartwarming fashion.

Yes, this was Albus Percival Wulferic Brian Dumbledore's haven, and every detail of it was just as he liked it.

One item however, was a new addition to the room. A room he hadn't changed once since becoming headmaster.

The small golden cauldron sat in its place above the enchanted fire in the corner of the room. Trying to belong; but somehow looking out of place even amongst the chaos surrounding it.

Albus sighed as he plucked the long glass rod from where it stood, perfectly balanced, in the centre of the bubbling mixture.

The latest results from his potion had been…troubling. Yes, troubling to say the least.

Giving the concoction three strong stirs as it required, he paused.

Fearing, yes _fearing, _what he might find, Dumbledore withdrew another string of the green liquid with a flick of his wand. Depositing the rope in the awaiting clear crystal goblet, Albus steeled himself and lifted the glass to his eye.

What had once been a bright clear liquid was becoming murky. The green fluid was congealing in sullen clumps, and as he held it up to the light his face became shadowed with the tainted pieces.

By all observations, the potion was…was _rotting_.

Albus felt horror settle in his stomach; _oh Merlin, this can't be right._ It hadn't been _this_ bad last time he had checked! Just a little darker in colour…that was all.His hand began to shake and a glob of the putrid mess spilled from the top of the glass. He watched with fascination as his nausea rose; the gunk was beginning to eat away at the rug it had fallen on.

_But how could that be!? _

Dumbledore groaned as he dumped the rest of liquid back in its cauldron, wincing as some lumps 'plopped' and as others clung to the side of the goblet. Muttering under his breathe he reset the charm that would inform him when the potion needed to be checked. But he was beginning to wonder if he needed to anymore, if he _wanted_ to anymore.

He looked back at the potion, and suddenly it looked sickly. Its rolling surface looking more like boils bursting rather then mundane bubbles created from heat.

Dumbeldore stumbled over to one of his leather armchairs and collapsed in its cushioned embraced.

_That…that can't be!_

The old man buried his face in his gnarled hands.

The potion was illegal in nature, but Dumbledore had felt that the situation called for its brewing. It had many names, some old Nordic, some Latin, others were even Egyptian and Arabic. Many were long and tongue twisting, others unpronounceable unless you spoke the language fluently. But all of them meant the same simple thing:

Corporeal Soul.

A liquid form to observe something unseen, a tactile version of something intangible and formless. A mirror, a window to ones true essence.

Albus felt his own soul weigh heavy in his chest as his fingers tugged at his white locks.

_I must have brewed it wrong. This _can't_ be right!_

Albus almost felt like crying.

The Boy Who Lived's soul could not be **rotting**!

-oOo-

Harry mastered his breathing as Hermione sat him down beside Lupin.

_Whatever the hell that was…_ an unnerving flash of crimson flashed before his minds eye. His resolve deepened as a frown played at his face. _I'm not going to let it control me. _

Because there was one thing that Harry Potter wasn't anymore. 'Innocent' he was sure some would say, but Naïve was the word that came to his mind. At one time, he knew he would have rushed off to Professor McGonagall or someone of the like, screeching about his hurting scar. What bloody good did that ever do him? No, he knew where that thought had come from…

Merlin, he hoped he was wrong.

He looked up at Lupin, meeting those amber eyes squarely. Kind eyes; now filled with worry for him.

The fact that Remus Lupin was a werewolf had never been an issue in Harry's mind before. Even after He and Hermione had run from his 'furry little problem' under the full moon in third year…It was just another aspect of who the professor was. Just like how Hermione was a bossy know-it-all, how Ron was the jealous type, how Neville was frustratingly clumsy and how he himself sometimes had a Dark Lord in his head.

None of these things could be changed, despite how much he might want them too. And so they were acknowledged, and in turn pushed to the back of his mind. Why obsess over something that couldn't be helped?

_If I can't trust Lupin who can I trust? _Memories of Patronus lessons filled his head, followed by the chocolate offered at every failed attempt. All the banter between the man and his Godfather. All the proud smiles in class.

"Wandless Magic" the words were free of his mouth, and Harry could have sworn that he felt a shimmer of disappoint shrivel in his mind. _Ha, take__** that**_, He thought at the diminishing presence, triumph filling him. Without the pain that usually accompanied such a thing, Harry knew that it wasn't Voldemort, at least not him personally. No blind pain, no terrifying visions. No, Harry's guess was that this was some lingering effect of one of the snake faced bastards curses.

He could deal with it.

The professors eyes widened, a smile etching itself on his face, and Harry pushed his discovery aside.

"_Merlin_." His fathers friend breathed "To think you could use it at all so _young_. A Doppelganger you said? Astounding. The level of control you must have…" Lupin broke off, a laugh erupting from his mouth as he sat back, hitting his thigh as he shook his head.

"Harry, you will never cease to amaze. Then again after mastering a Patronus at thirteen I shouldn't be so surprised should I?"

Harry felt an embarrassed smile grace his face along with the beginnings of a blush.

"Can you show me Harry?" Lupin asked, making no attempt to hide his enthusiasm.

Harry grinned and lifted his hand.

With a lazy swish and flick of his wrist, and a careless thought of _Wingardium Leviosa_, Lupin's cane began to drift about their heads, flipping and twirling as if it were leading a marching band.

Harry's smile grew at the sight of Lupin's face. He looked like Christmas had come early. And he had gotten every priceless dusty tome he wanted. Harry lifted his other hand and made one of Hermiones quills join the cane in the air. After a moment the two objects began to waltz, swaying back and forth as they orbited each other gently.

"Now you're just showing off" Hermione noted.

With a grander than needed flourish, Harry set the items back in there proper places.

"How long did it take you to get to this level Harry? I must admit that levitation is quiet straight forward, only first level magic after all, but Wandless magic has a different scale entirely! That has to be taken into consideration. The spells themselves are secondary to the level of control presented. I don't know how to rank you Harry; I simply don't know enough to start! I've only read passing mentions of Wandless magic. I'm sure you're aware just how rare this is! It takes an extremely strong witch or wizard to begin with-I'll have to read up on this! The concept never really grabbed me before; I always thought it was just too obscure a subject to research. How many books could there be? Millions of course, but how many written by actual Wandless practitioners? And to what merit? Reading a book written by someone who only has a rudimentary grasp on the art would be frankly a waste of time. How am I to tell which tomes to start with!?"

Harry and Hermione watched in silence as Lupin hobbled back and forth animatedly, Gesturing wildly as he continued to babble.

"-Britain's Wizarding community is sadly lacking in the Wandless art. But I remember hearing that Africa and Australia has a higher Wandless individual rate than most countries. Perhaps because of the smaller magical population? But Africa's is bigger than Britains… Magical injuries! Erumpents in Africa often blow off limbs; it's almost a common occurrence according to the papers I've read. And the massive dragon reserves in Australia must result in some damage. I wonder if I could get in contact with a healer, ask them if the loss of a limb, or use of as the case may be, could be connected with the higher opportunity of Wandless magic-"

Harry blinked, trying to focus on the constant stream of words flowing from the professors' mouth. But found himself going cross eyed with the effort such an act required. _He just keeps going._ He thought with a mixture of amazement and horror. _For the love of Merlin, make him stop!_

Hermione on the other hand was watching her teacher brainstorm in awe.

"Oh Harry, just imagine his lectures for our NEWT!" she gasped.

Going back to class suddenly seemed much less of a treat and much more like a chore.

Harry felt decidedly ill.

* * *

6887 words, 17 pages, longest chapter yet! I'm sorry this has taken so long to update, but I've been doing school work /I'm nearing my exams, and I've got heaps majors and assignments due :'( / But! I do have a 'Led by the Spirits' chapter in the works. So hopefully my next update won't be _too_ long away. Thank you so much for all the people who are still showing interest in this story. Everyone whose still reviewing (even if you're asking for an update-they are always a good incentive! Guilt motivates!) and all those random favs and alerts. Thankyou so much.

Hope you enjoyed! _please review!_

Mali


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